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whatstruthgottodowithit · 6 months ago

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The Other Evans Girl [Epilogue]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauder’s Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character, Sirius Black x Daisy Evans, James Potter x Lily Evans

Characters: Sirius Black, Original Female Character, Daisy Evans, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, Walburga Black, Orion Black, Jasper Thicknesse, Barty Crouch Jr, Mulciber, Walden McNair

Word Count: 7867

Rating: Mature

Summary: Hogwarts is a safe haven, a home for many, but it’s often a place where heartache, love and complex emotions dwell and none know that better than the Marauders. Lily Evans just wants to make it out as a successful witch though the oncoming war and the ongoing advances of James Potter threaten that. Daisy Evans, her twin, has other goals. Join the Evans sisters as they make their way through Hogwarts, prepare for war and eventually find love.

Notes: I only cried three times writing this.

No but seriously I can't believe it's finished but I can believe I've talked myself into continuing it. I'll be doing oneshots following on like glimpses of Daisy's life following this up to well after the second war. Also I refuse to do my boy dirty so he's getting his happy ending lol

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS

Daisy didn’t know why she had come, what random force had tugged at her to leave her flat and apparate here but she had, forgoing the voice in her head that told her it wasn’t safe because the feeling in her gut was enough.

And she had been right.

Given the gargantuan manor James Potter had grown up in one would expect his own family home to be of a similar stature but following the passing of both his parents he’d found manors and mansions too empty and unfeeling and so he and his new bride had bought a quaint Tudor style house in Godric’s Hollow complete with a picturesque front garden for their future children to play in. Daisy remembered the first time she had clapped eyes on it, how beautiful and perfect she had thought it to be. She and Lily planned on barbecues in the back garden, an inherently muggle invention the boys were enthralled to get involved with. She thought of hot chocolates by the open fire in the living room on Christmas Eve with everyone sleeping over because no one dared miss Harry’s first holiday. She thought of the swing set she’d bought her nephew, still unopened somewhere in the shed because her sister had decreed him far too young to have it yet and that his godparents ought to know better. She thought of her home away from home. Only now it didn’t resemble the beautiful home she’d come to know. Now it lay in ruins, the front of the building eviscerated strewing rubble and debris over the manicured front lawn and with it she could smell something wretched. The pungent air of thick magic. The smell of death.

And just like that house in front of her she felt her world implode. She had known there was a reason for that feeling in her gut. She had known there was something tugging her forward but she had hoped she’d been wrong.

‘No,’ she whispered as reality started to settle in, ‘no, no, no! Lily! Lil!’

She started to run, barrelling towards the front gate as her mind chanted at her that it was going to be okay. Maybe they got out, maybe they’d been lucky and managed to escape, she reasoned. If anyone could, it'd be Lily. Her practical and perfect sister, she’d know what to do. She’d manage to escape.

She didn’t even check her surroundings as she’d been taught to, the need to get to her family all consuming, which was why she was startled as strong arms wrapped around her pulling her into the familiar scent of cigarettes and leather.

‘Dais,’ Sirius said hoarsely, ‘Dais you can’t.’ ‘Let me go! Lil!’ she shouted, fighting against her boyfriend as he struggled to keep hold of her. ‘Dais they’re gone,’ he whispered, finally grabbing her wrists and pulling him to face her. He looked awful, his normally happy features barren of life and his eyes red from crying, ‘they’re both gone.’ ‘No, they can’t be,’ she whispered as the tears started to build, wet and warm as they rolled down her cheeks. How could they be gone? How could her sister, her other half be gone?

‘How, I don’t understand,’ she said, her breath coming quicker and quicker though it felt as though she couldn’t breathe at all. The only other time she’d ever felt like this was when they’d lost their parents, as if someone had squeezed all the air out of her, all the life out of her. Sirius didn’t say anything and just pulled her into his chest, allowing her to sob as the information settled in.

None of it made sense. They were supposed to be safe; Dumbledore had promised her he would keep them safe. Hadn’t that been the reason for all the spells and enchantments? The lockdowns and restrictions? The secrecy? Hadn’t that been why they were living through hell? Stolen moments coming every few weeks, so far apart that whenever she saw her nephew he was half a size bigger or had some new development she didn’t even get to enjoy because it wasn’t safe for anyone to visit for long.

Harry.

Her poor sweet Harry. How could he be so young and yet the target for the most powerful wizard to ever live? How did he, at a great sum of fifteen months ever stand a chance? How could Voldemort ever think that power could be worth this.

How could she still hear his disgruntled cry, the one he got whenever Lily was more than a room away. Daisy was still buried deep in Sirius’ chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her but she pulled back, her snotty, red face confused at the noise. She’d been so consumed when she’d gotten here she hadn’t bothered to check the area but looking past Sirius she found his bike sitting not so far away and Hagrid standing beside it, his own face ruddy, but more importantly with a small tot nestled into his arm.

Harry Potter was alive.

And Daisy didn’t waste any time rushing to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. He had been on the verge of crying but upon seeing her he settled, clinging to her just as tightly as she did him, resting her cheek on his head as a fresh wave of tears flooded her. Yet these were of relief.

‘What happened,’ she said, finally getting a hold of herself to look at Hagrid and Sirius for answers, ‘I don’t understand.’ ‘Don’t know,’ Sirius said blankly, his grey eyes dull, ‘I don’t understand how.’ ‘When I got here the house was like tha’ and James and Lily wer’,’ Hagrid started though a sob rumbled through him at the mention of their names. Sirius cleared his throat, somehow able to take over from the half-giant even though his loss was arguably more consuming. ‘He’s hurt. He’ll need to go to Dumbledore to be checked over to make sure he’s safe,’ Sirius said flatly, moving towards her and moving the thick mop of jet-black hair from Harry’s brow to reveal a thick gash on his forehead. It was obvious it had been cleared of blood but she could feel an aura radiating from it, it was a magical wound, that’s why they hadn’t healed it. Was this how he survived? The cost of living?

‘Right,’ Daisy mumbled. ‘Dais,’ Sirius said, tearing her eyes from the gash back to those flat grey eyes, ‘Voldemort’s gone but that doesn’t mean he is safe. He needs to go to Dumbledore.’ ‘Okay, yeah okay,’ Daisy said, her senses finally starting to make an appearance. Sirius was right. As broken as they were feeling they still had a job to do. Keep Harry safe. That had been what they’d been doing since the day he was born, what James and Lily had made them promise to do when he’d asked them to be godparents. ‘And you have to take him,’ Sirius said quietly. At that Daisy faltered, her brow furrowing as she looked at him. He looked away, shifting under her scrutiny which didn’t reassure her at all. ‘What?’ was all she could ask. ‘You need to-’ ‘What about you?’ she asked, that pit she had felt in her stomach before she’d come returning only now it was a chasm. One that put a lump in her throat and made her head spin with worry. ‘I have to go,’ Sirius said flatly. ‘Go? Go where?!’ she demanded, wiping the tears that were returning as she tried to keep her mind focused. ‘Dais,’ he sighed, swallowing thickly. ‘You can’t just leave!’ she protested but he didn’t seem to be hearing her. Whatever was in his head taking over as he shut everything down.

‘Go with Hagrid, take Harry to Dumbledore. Take the bike,’ he said firmly though he still refused to look at her, his focus on Harry as he tucked a finger under the baby’s pudgy chin, earning a considerably gummy smile in return. Sirius smiled back weakly at his godson. ‘Pads,’ she whispered, unable to wrap her head around what was happening. ‘Look after him, yeah?’ he asked, tears rolling down his cheeks when he finally looked at her. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, leaving like this, leaving her when he knew she needed him. He needed her too, like he always did, but there was something he had to do first, no matter the cost.

‘Sirius what are you talking-’ ‘Dais I love you,’ Sirius whispered, moving his hand to her cheek. The skin was wet against his hand but he didn’t care. After all he wasn’t sure the next time he’d feel the touch of her again, ‘no matter what happens I need you to know that.’ ‘Pads,’ she breathed shakily, panic mounting by the second. ‘And I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘Sirius please,’ she begged, ‘you can’t go. You can’t leave me-’ ‘Remember that,’ he said leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. Harry whined at the intrusion, reaching to grasp at Sirius’ necklace but he detached him, kissing his chubby hand before he pushed him away and moved out of their grip. ‘Sirius,’ Daisy said, attempting to follow but he pushed her away glancing at Hagrid to intervene. He was behind her in a couple steps, wrapping his large arm around her and Harry and stopping her from moving after him. Once they were anchored he turned around, wiping the tears from his cheeks as he walked away as if not being able to see her would stop them from coming. It was never going to work, not when he could still hear her pleading, ‘no! Hagrid let go! Let me, Sirius! Sirius, what are you doing, Hagrid please!’

And then he was gone, disapperating with a loud crack leaving the lane quiet and eerie. Only then did Hagrid let her go, watching her with a sad smile as she turned around unable to get a grip on what had just happened. Not that she had time to as Hagrid muttered, ‘he’s in Hogsmeade. Dumbledore that is. It’s a long way but ‘e’s right, the bike’s probably the safest way t’go.’

‘Right, yeah,’ Daisy mumbled numbly. ‘He’ll know what to do,’ Hagrid promised, gesturing for Daisy to hand Harry over so that she could climb into the sidecar of the motorbike. She went through the motions, settling into the seat though her mind was miles away. Not even when he handed Harry over did she snap out of it, millions of thoughts whizzing around in her brain. Thankfully she had plenty of time to think about them.

✵✵✵

The flight to Hogsmeade was a long and cold one because even though it was nightfall Hagrid stayed well up in the cloud to avoid being seen. And for the most part it was dark save for the glow of the waning moon and the glint of street lights as towns came and went below them. On a normal ride like the ones she and Sirius used to go on back when he’d first gotten the bike she’d be craning her neck to look at the colourful coast lines or vibrant dales as they passed by. When it was warm she’d stay in the side car but on cold nights like this she’d take to the back of the bike, wrapping herself around him, listening to the thud of his heart and the thrum of the engine, content as ever.

At this moment in time she wasn’t sure how she could ever have felt content. She wasn’t sure how she’d ever felt anything before, anything that wasn’t this dark rotting ache inside her. She couldn’t even say what it was. Sadness didn’t even seem to cover it; it didn’t feel like that held enough weight.

Because how could she describe the loss of James and Lily? She’d felt at a loss when her parents had died, the passing of Euphemia and Fleamont hurting just as much. When Marlene had been murdered, her entire family wiped off the face of the earth, she’d been distraught. Yet through all of those she’d managed to muddle through and keep going. Through those she’d had James and Lily.

She’d had James unrelenting optimism and kind-hearted reassurances.

James.

At the thought of him another silent sob rolled through her. Because how could he be gone? How could a light as bright and infectious as his be gone when that didn’t seem possible. Even in the midst of the mess that was this war he’d remained upbeat and relentlessly confident even as they failed to gain any positive movement. Even having to go into hiding had not ripped that positivity from him.

‘Because he thought they would be coming out of it,’ her mind whispered, bringing a fresh wave of tears. Of course. Of course he would have thought they’d make it. Of course he would have anticipated escaping the greatest wizard in the world unscathed. James Potter could do anything.

Or at least she had thought so. With that thought her mind wandered to what his last moments were like. Had he been scared? When the most evil wizard in existence had turned up at his front door had he wanted to run away? No, knowing James he would’ve faced him head on if it had meant protecting his family he wouldn’t have even flinched.

But did that mean Lily had known what was coming? Had she had to live through it, knowing that there was no stopping him? Had she been scared? Daisy couldn’t bear to think of it. She couldn't bear to think of her sister, her perfect, practical, poised sister floundering in panic. She couldn’t think of her not knowing what to do, fearing for her baby’s life the way she feared for her husband’s or her own.

Had she thought of her? Hoped that somehow Harry would survive, that Daisy wouldn’t be left with no one. Even if she was destined to live without her sister, her other half, she’d have a part of her. She’d have someone.

But that was the thing. Daisy was supposed to have someone. She was supposed to have Sirius, he was supposed to be here with her, navigating through this grief together. But he’d just left her behind and it didn’t make any sense. The only thing she could tell herself was that there must be a reason for it, some protocol or command of the order that he’d known about and had to uphold regardless of how hard it was. Because he wouldn’t leave her, not for good reason.

Not when she needed him.

And she did. Up here in the bitter winds and freezing temperatures she needed him more than ever. She needed him to wrap his arms around her and tell her it was going to be okay no matter how hollow it sounded. She needed him to tell her they’d survive this. They had to. For Harry.

He’d been quiet for most of the flight, wrapped in his baby blanket and the gargantuan scarf Hagrid had draped over them which acted more like a duvet than a garment, but as they passed into the Scottish highlands he’d disturbed, the frigid Scottish climate too cold for him to be comfortable. Now he was standing on her lap tugging on her hair to get her attention. She was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice him for a moment until after a particularly sharp tug upon which she broke, yanking it from his fist angrily snapping, ‘Harry stop it!’

At that his bright green eyes widened and his lip started trembling, threatening to unearth the mightiest of screams. Except Daisy wanted to scream too. She wanted to scream and shout and cry and sob and let everything inside her out. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t and she couldn’t snap at Harry because what good would it do? How was he to know the weight of the situation? All he knew was that he was somewhere foreign, cold and tired and miles away from his mummy and daddy. He didn’t know that he’d never see them again. He didn’t know that at that moment Daisy felt as though her world was caving in on itself.

He wanted fun auntie Daisy. The one who never yelled at him or told him off. The one that made James and Lily tear their hair out when she gave him sweets or bought him presents for no reason, yes even James ‘buy anything on a whim’ Potter. He wanted his uncle Padfoot who’d see the fat tears rolling down his cheeks and turn into his favourite furry friend. He wanted his dad to make him laugh or his mum to cuddle him, making him feel better instantly.

He wanted all the things Daisy wanted.

But they weren’t going to get it, ever again. All they had now was each other and he didn’t deserve to be shouted at.

‘Sorry munchkin,’ she cooed shakily, wiping the damp tracks of tears from her cheeks, ‘m’sorry I shouted. What’s the matter?’

Harry grumbled and nestled into her neck allowing her to wrap her arms around him. As he nestled whingily into her she realised he was still tired which was no surprise given the tumultuous night he’d been through. He was always needy after he awoke begging to be cuddled for a while until he felt ready to face being awake for good.

‘He’s probably ready for sumthin’ to eat,’ Hagrid said, the most he’d spoken the entire ride, ‘we’re not far now. ‘Bout half an hour or so.’ ‘Right,’ Daisy said, her voice cracking from the lack of use. Hagrid was probably right; the sky was growing lighter now even though the sun was nowhere to be seen given the lateness of the year. Then again in the Scottish highlands there wasn’t much chance of the sun showing up at all which was backed by how cold it still was though as Hagrid started to descend, dipping below the cloud barrier towards the small settlement of Hogsmeade, it grew slightly warmer.

Whether it was Hagrid’s heft or the hardness of the mud underneath them the bike hit the floor with a thud, making Harry fuss and Daisy to feel a disconnect between her neck and brain. Hagrid dismounted rather gracefully, offering a large hand out for the toddler whilst Daisy got herself straight. Once sorted she took him back, the pair of them feeling rather put out even if the separation was momentary. Only then did Daisy look around, finding herself down the long lane that passed through the village out to the lookout post of the shrieking shack. A memory of traipsing down here on a snowy winter’s day with James bubbled in her mind but she shook it away as well as the tears it brought and followed Hagrid’s direction to enter through a back door.

Daisy walked through it and found herself in an entryway, her only options to go through an old wooden door or up a narrow staircase and given she didn't know where she was she waited for Hagrid to duck through and lead the way. As he closed the door behind them, locking the fresh air out and trapping her in the scent of stale ale she realised she was in a pub. She was sure it wasn’t the Three Broomsticks, they were too far out of town, so she reckoned more than likely it was the Hog’s Head though why Dumbledore would be here she didn’t know.

Either way she didn’t care, following Hagrid up the rickety old staircase that moaned and protested under his weight as he climbed to too thin stairs. The room he led her to was a reasonable size but it appeared smaller due to the sheer amount of furniture that had been crammed inside it. An old couch and armchairs were nestled by the roaring fire and one half of the wall had been taken up by a small kitchenette, stocked with the bare necessities, but the majority of the room resembled an office, albeit a messy one. Yet however chaotic and unlike Dumbledore’s it was he still looked quite at home stationed behind the large desk.

By his side was a woman she’d only ever seen in the prophet. Milicent Bagnold a hard faced, unyielding woman with a permanent look of displeasure riddled upon her face. ‘She looks like she’s lost a galleon and found a knut,’ Sirius had said the day she was appointed Minister for Magic. She looked that way now, her beady eyes narrowing as Daisy walked in no doubt looking bedraggled as ever.

In contrast McGonagall, who was by Dumbledore’s other side, looked positively motherly with her face growing concerned and sad as she took in Daisy and Harry, who was watching them all curiously. She even moved to hug her, her bony hand on Daisy’s shoulder, but Dumbledore stopped her, rising from his seat and placing his hands on the desk before clearing his throat in warning as he said, ‘Minerva.’

McGonagall glanced at Daisy and then sighed, backing up and away from the pair of them leaving them standing in the middle of the room exposed to all. Dumbledore offered her a smile but it didn’t have the normal warmth to it, the matter too grave that not even he could instil hope in anyone. And to her surprise he didn’t offer her any words of comfort or hope instead he merely asked, ‘with whom did you share a dormitory with during your time at Hogwarts?’ ‘What?’ Daisy asked, the question coming from the left field though as he started to repeat himself she realised he was still following protocol. Even when Voldemort was dead. When her sister and James were dead. He was still acting to the letter as if it mattered. ‘Alice, Mar and Lil,’ she parroted robotically, finally earning herself a sympathetic smile though it only came from McGonagall. Dumbledore just shrugged and said, ‘sorry I had to ask. Hagrid, what is the name of your new puppy?’ ‘Fang Dumbledore sir,’ Hagrid replied, ‘what was the last thing the three of us spoke of?’ ‘James and Lily’s passing,’ Dumbledore replied.

Daisy fought the wave of tears that came at his words not that Hagrid fared as well, sniffling and wiping his still red eyes with the corner of his sleeve. In fact all she could think to say was, ‘you knew?’ ‘Ah,’ Dumbledore said, finally offering a sad smile, ‘word got to us early I’m afraid. That’s why I sent Hagrid.’ ‘We were hoping it was a false alarm,’ McGonagall added, ‘though I suspect-‘ ‘It’s not,’ Daisy said flatly. ‘Is he,’ Dumbledore said, gesturing to the toddler in her arms, his eyes still bright and inquisitive in this new environment. ‘He’s fine from what we can tell but well there’s this,’ Daisy said, pushing the mop of black hair from his brow so that the lightning shaped cut was visible to them. She hadn’t dared to look at it since Sirius had shown her, the queasy feeling it gave her returning at the sight of it. ‘Mmm,’ Dumbledore mused, not easing her queasy feeling. ‘What? What is it?’ she asked worriedly. ‘A curse,’ Dumbledore said evenly. ‘A curse?’ Daisy asked, instinctively brushing her hand across it. Harry giggled and grabbed hold of it, playing with the ring on her finger which she allowed him to do. She was just thankful he was content. ‘A rebound curse it looks like. From whatever Voldemort tried to do,’ Dumbledore clarified, his words earning a shiver from everyone but Daisy. Once recovered the minister took a step forward, a question on the tip of her tongue though all she asked was, ‘Dumbledore?’ ‘We know that the prophecy spoke of Harry being the one with the power to defeat Lord Voldemort, yes?’ Dumbledore asked, unable to hide his contempt for having to explain himself to the woman. The minister nodded, ‘well, what the Dark Lord may not have thought is that the power may always be in existence.’ ‘But he’s just a baby!’ McGonagall protested. ‘And he has just survived the most evil wizard in the history of our world. With only a mark to suggest otherwise,’ Dumbledore shrugged, ‘his scar by effect is proof of it.’

The room was quiet, contemplating how a mere child could possibly have stopped the greatest evil any of them had ever known when his parents and countless others before him hadn’t been able to. Daisy didn’t know what to think but all she knew was that she didn’t like the look in the minister’s eyes, fear and awe. Daisy shifted Harry in her arms, jostling him until his head was on her shoulder, facing away from them all. Dumbledore sensed the reservation in her and cleared his throat, distracting the woman as he said, ‘now of course he may have had help in the matter. From what I am told James and Lily lay down their lives which I can only imagine acted as protection.’ ‘Blood magic,’ McGonagall said gravely. ‘Yes Minerva,’ Dumbledore agreed, ‘blood magic. A deep protection, one of love.’ ‘Then you were right Dumbledore,’ the minister said firmly, ‘it must be them. Family is the way to go in this instance.’ ‘But Dumbledore must it be them?’ McGonagall sighed, ‘from what I’ve seen.’ ‘They are family Minerva,’ Dumbledore implored.

‘I’m sorry, what are you on about?’ Daisy asked, unable to find the thread of the conversation through all the waffle though the knot in her stomach told her something was amiss. They’d been deep in conversation, the three of them debating with one another but they looked up as she spoke as if they’d forgotten she was even there. ‘Harry must be protected,’ the minister said as though it were obvious. Daisy fought the urge to roll her eyes merely biting back through gritted teeth, ‘yes I know that.’ ‘And the blood magic in him will serve as added protection but our primary defence would be for him to live away from the wizarding world whilst everything is fresh and Voldemort’s followers are still at large,’ the minister explained, ‘which is why he should go and live with his aunt and uncle.’ ‘Right,’ Daisy agreed though as she looked at them, sharing awkward glances, that knot in her stomach grew, ‘wait you mean Petunia?!’

‘Miss Evans,’ Dumbledore said with a sigh. ‘You cannot seriously want to send him to live with Petunia!’ Daisy said, her voice growing shriller which disturbed Harry even though she pressed on, ‘that is not happening!’ ‘Daisy,’ McGonagall said softly, ‘you’re young and grieving-’ ‘And?’ Daisy snapped, ‘if anything who better! We know what he’s lost. Petunia hasn’t even met him! She doesn’t even like James or wizards for that matter that’s why they wanted him to be with me, us, should anything happen. We’re his aunt and uncle.’ ‘You mean his godparents,’ the minister corrected. ‘Yes!’ Daisy said indignantly. ‘We’re supposed to trust him to you two,’ the minister asked, quirking a perfectly sculpted brow with a look of disdain. ‘Why wouldn’t you!’ Daisy shouted, ‘Sirius and I-’ ‘Sirius Black has just been apprehended for the murder of Peter Pettigew and twelve muggles,’ the minister challenged. Daisy faltered, the words not landing properly in her brain.

‘What?’ she asked, looking to McGonagall and Dumbledore for some clarification but they only offered looks of sadness. With a slight air of smugness the minister produced a copy of the daily prophet from her robes and dumped it on the table, front page out.

There, emblazoned on the front page was an article about the death of Lord Voldemort and the news of Harry, dubbing her nephew as ‘The Boy Who Lived’ but she turned over to the following page and there in front of her was a headline that made her heart stop.

BLACK HEIR TURNED MASS MURDERER

The photo underneath it was of a street where body bags and rubble littered the ground but she didn’t look at it, jumping straight to the article below it. She could feel eyes on her but she couldn’t make sense of the words, they wouldn’t sit right in her brain. ‘Mass murder’, ‘Death Eater’, ‘Peter Pettigrew’ were the only things that jumped out at her.

‘No,’ she whispered, whether to herself or them she wasn’t sure. But this had to be incorrect. Sirius was not a murderer, not to muggles, not to anyone. Not one of his best friends. A wave of grief, that admittedly was all too familiar in these past few hours, crashed through her again at the idea of losing Peter. How was this happening, they had to be wrong. They’d made a mistake they had to have, ‘no he wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t-’ ‘He would if his master was dead,’ the minister countered. ‘What are you talking about?’ Daisy asked exhaustedly. ‘Daisy, did you not wonder how Voldemort managed to find James and Lily,’ Dumbledore said quietly. ‘Well there must’ve been a mole like we’ve suspected for weeks,’ Daisy started before a pointed look made the implication dawn on her. And just like she couldn’t accept that Sirius could be involved in murder she couldn’t believe what they were suggesting, ‘no, no, not Sirius. He wouldn’t do that to James-’ ‘Daisy,’ McGonagall said sadly. ‘He was his brother! He wouldn’t do that to him or Lil. He wouldn’t do that to Harry!’ she shouted, her voice echoing around the wooden walls. What she wanted to scream was that he wouldn’t do that to her. He would never betray her like that. James either. ‘Or he’s a master manipulator to have you fooled as you are,’ the minister said walking towards her as she eyed her menacingly, ‘or you’re with him.’ ‘What?’ Daisy breathed, her breath shaky from shouting and her arm starting to hurt where Harry had unsettled and started to fidget pulling at her hair for attention. The minister didn’t pay her notice, turning to look at the others, dismissing her as if she were a child in timeout, ‘you were right Dumbledore.’ ‘Albus please,’ McGonagall said, casting a look at Daisy before pleading with the headmaster who seemed to be contemplating. ‘She’s not to be trusted,’ the minister reiterated. ‘What?’ Daisy gasped, ‘how dare you!’

‘Oh look at you!’ the minister snapped, brushing the young girl aside as she carried on speaking to Dumbledore, ‘she’s a mess! Erratic and hot-headed just like you said. He is the most famous wizard in the world Dumbledore he needs to be safe-’ ‘He’s my nephew!’ Daisy shrieked. ‘And a murderer’s godson,’ the minister spat before she got a hold of herself and straightened up, apparently embarrassed at her loss of control as she decreed, ‘he must go to his other family Dumbledore surely you must agree?’ ‘You can’t,’ Daisy whispered, panic setting in, ‘you can’t give him to Petunia, he's never even met her!’ ‘But she’s a relative,’ Dumbledore countered. ‘I’m a relative!’ Daisy shrieked. ‘And a mentally unbalanced one by the looks of things!’ the minister sneered. ‘Dumbledore please think about this! Daisy has a point, hasn’t he lost enough? Harry should go to someone he knows. Someone he’s familiar with-’ ‘Why not give him to the murderer himself!’ the minister challenged, folding her arms across her chest. ‘You know that is not the same!’ McGonagall said shrilly, ‘didn’t you see her? She looked just as blindsided as the rest of us by the news of Si-, of him.’ ‘And we’re supposed to trust her word for it?’ the minister asked. ‘I do not believe he had any other associates minister,’ Dumbledore said calmly.

But Daisy didn’t care. She wasn’t focused on who had done what or betrayed who. All she was thinking about was the idea of Harry being ripped from her, forced to spend his days with Petunia. McGonagall was right hadn’t Harry lost enough? Hadn’t she lost enough?

Her mind was still reeling from losing James and Lily but now Peter too. And Sirius.

No, no, no, it couldn’t be right. He couldn’t have been behind this there must be another explanation. Her Sirius couldn’t be a murderer. The boy who had been smart enough to flee the dark wizards at fifteen couldn’t fall in line with them now at the age of twenty-one. He hated them more than anyone. He wouldn’t have betrayed his family for them. And they were family. He had promised her that.

He wouldn’t have done that to her. And if he had she would’ve known right? She would’ve seen it coming, right?

They lived together, climbed into the same bed every night, and spoke every day. Sure as the war had plodded on it had been tense. As restrictions and protocols had been implemented restricting what they could and could not speak of in their own home their conversations had become superficial and few. But she would’ve known right? After all they’d all suspected a traitor in their midst but she would’ve spotted him if he was underneath her nose, wouldn’t she?

As she’d been dwelling on it she hadn't realised she had been backing up away from the arguing and chaos of it all until she felt the cool metal of a door knob nestled in her back. At the clunk the group looked at her but she didn’t think, fleeing through it and slamming it closed, locking it quickly behind her. She heard them rush towards her but she didn’t care not even when the minister called, ‘if you think you’re helping the matter you’re sorely mistaken missy!’

Daisy didn’t pay the old hag any attention. She wasn’t trying to flee. She wasn’t even trying to hide. She just wanted a moment to herself. A moment away from all the worry and accusations. A moment to regroup. To make sense of it all.

But it was something she couldn’t make sense of and so she didn’t bother and instead sank to the floor, allowing the tears to pour from her. Harry seemed concerned about his blubbering auntie but when his attempts to make her feel better by pressing sloppy kisses to her damp cheeks didn’t improve the situation he gave up, opting to nestle into her as she wept.

She didn’t know how long she spent crying on the floor of that bedroom. In fact she was surprised Harry hadn’t started to fuss after a while but when she glanced down she found him asleep, thoroughly exhausted. He didn’t even disturb as the door unlatched and creaked open. Daisy didn’t fight it. She wasn’t sure she had much fight left in her truth be told. Instead she allowed McGonagall to enter and watched as she sat herself down on the floor beside her, albeit rather ungracefully as she landed with an ‘oomph.’

They were quiet for a moment both staring at the now closed door, the only thing to be heard was a gentle sniffle from the blonde.

‘Daisy,’ McGonagall said after a beat. ‘He wouldn’t,’ Daisy whispered, more for herself than anyone else, ‘he wouldn’t do this I know he wouldn’t.’ ‘I know,’ McGonagall said softly. Daisy turned to look at her with surprise. McGonagall sighed, ‘I know he wouldn’t and I don’t want to believe it either trust me. But there is no other explanation. After all he was their secret keeper wasn’t he?’ ‘Yes but they,’ Daisy started but McGonagall placed a hand on her knee to silence her. ‘Daisy you can keep believing it and if you truly think Sirius is innocent then who am I to tell you not to,’ McGonagall reasoned, her lined face growing more sombre as she said, ‘but Harry needs you.’ ‘I know,’ Daisy whispered. ‘I have watched your sister Daisy and I do not like what I saw. He needs you. He needs a connection to our kind even if he’s kept away from all of this,’ she said gesturing to nothing, ‘but Dumbledore needs to be able to trust you and right now he is struggling.’ ‘How can I make him trust me?’ Daisy asked. ‘You need to decide what you want more. Harry or your loyalty to someone who may very well have betrayed you,’ McGonagall said, reaching out and moving a limp strand of hair from Daisy’s face, a sad smile on her lips as she said, ‘I know it’s hard to believe we can be taken for fools but it is not impossible.’

And with that she climbed up, groaning as her bones protested, before scuttling from the room.

That was the question.

Did she believe Sirius could have betrayed them? No, but why? Because she loved him? Because he told her he loved her? Did that mean anything when it came down to it? All her life she had been the emotional twin. The volatile one. She’d always allowed emotions and feelings to cloud her judgment but where had that gotten her. More importantly it wasn’t just her she had to think of, it was Harry. At that she wondered what Lily would think. Lily would look at the facts.

James would tell her there was no way this could be true but not her Lil. She’d believe it all unless the cold hard evidence pointed another way and right now it looked like it did. He was their secret keeper after all. He had been seen murdering twelve muggles in broad daylight. He’d murdered their friend.

‘Blown to smithereens,’ had been the phrasing in the prophet and with that a new wave of nausea hit and she lurched forward knocking Harry off her knee as she attempted to reach the bin but missed spewing the watery remnants of stomach acid onto the wooden floor. With a flourish of her wand she cleaned it up and then stood, scooping a disgruntled Harry from the floor before she headed out back into the room.

The minister was gone now and McGonagall, Dumbledore and Hagrid had all taken to sitting around the fire though admittedly Hagrid looked as if the chair he was sitting in had sprouted out of him rather than him sitting in it. Daisy sighed and settled into the only empty armchair passing Harry to McGonagall on her way so that they might both have some respite.

She couldn’t be focused on him at this moment in time. She was playing ball.

‘I’m glad you could finally join us,’ Dumbledore said as though she’d only just gotten there and had not been squirrelled away for god knows how long, ‘tea?’ ‘No thanks,’ Daisy said, the acrid taste of vomit still in her mouth. From beside her McGonagall conjured a baby bottle and tested the warmth of the milk on her wrist before offering it to Harry who took it happily, nestling back into the older witch as he drank. Daisy debated taking it off him. After all the sun was rising through the window which meant he’d be due a proper breakfast then again she realised there wasn't much point in doing so. It wasn’t as though he was sticking to the militant regime Lily had been implementing recently to improve his sleeping and eating. Fed was fed at this point. Not to mention she could get him back on track when they were settled somewhere but to do that she’d need to play the game, toe the line and make Dumbledore think she was ready to become his guardian.

And so with the taste of bile growing stronger in her mouth she said, ‘I’m sorry about all that. I know what you must think but well my entire life just sort of imploded in one night.’ ‘It’s understandable,’ Dumbledore said, ‘quite a shock for us all.’ ‘I just can’t believe,’ she was going to say ‘that he did it’ but she could feel their eyes heavy on her and defaulted to, ‘that I could be so blind.’ ‘Spies are good at what they do, Miss Evans,’ Dumbledore said, ‘that’s why they’re spies.’ ‘Had us all fooled the nasty lil toerag,’ Hagrid grunted. Daisy had to will herself not to flinch. ‘Either way the matter is being dealt with,’ Dumbledore said diplomatically. At that her ears pricked up her words coming before she thought, ‘how exactly?’ ‘Azkaban,’ Dumbledore said. ‘Right,’ she said, forcing the lump in her throat down as all the tales and anecdotes she’d heard about the brutality of the place rushed to the forefront of her mind. ‘Cut and dry I’m afraid, which means he’ll be there by nightfall and more importantly away from Harry,’ Dumbledore said. ‘Yeah, right,’ Daisy mumbled, trying to push the idea of shackles and dementors from her mind. ‘Miss Evans,’ Dumbledore said, capturing her attention once more. His tone was serious now. This was the crux of the matter and he was scrutinising her every move to make sure her answers aligned with what he needed to hear. Daisy straightened up, pushing her shoulders down as she tried to keep her breathing level. Dumbledore continued, ‘I know what the minister may think but I can assure you I do not see this matter the same way. I believe in your innocence.’ ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. She wanted to scream that he had no reason not to, that she was innocent, but she didn't bother. Now was not the time for charging in without thought. ‘But that doesn’t mean I am sure about what should happen with regards to Harry. Voldemort may be gone but his followers live on. And like the actions of Sirius Black we cannot know what they might do now they are without a leader,’ Dumbledore said, ‘that is why I thought your sister to be a good fit. Not because of doubt for yourself but because by the very essence of being a muggle she has more protection than anyone. Blood magic may very well protect the boy but a muggle world is a buffer to everything.’ ‘What do you mean?’ Daisy asked, confused. ‘I do not wish to rip Harry from what he knows any more than you do. I understand that you are a big part of his life but his life as it is cannot continue,’ Dumbledore said. ‘I don’t understand,’ Daisy said. ‘Harry needs to be raised away from our world. As a muggle,’ Dumbledore said flatly. ‘What?’ Daisy gasped. ‘He needs to be raised away from-’ ‘Magic! You want to deprive him of magic!’ Daisy baulked recalling her own mundane muggle upbringing, the childhood that had felt as though it was in black and white until the age of eleven when magic had turned everything technicolour. ‘I want to keep him from other wizards,’ Dumbledore corrected, ‘he is vulnerable.’ ‘And how is leaving him without magic protecting him?’ Daisy asked. ‘He won't be without magic. He’ll have you. Of course you would have to play the part of a muggle, pretend so to speak, but in time he will learn the truth. He will come to Hogwarts as you and his parents did. He will be a magnificent wizard Daisy,’ Dumbledore assured, ‘but for now the wizarding world is no place for him. He’ll be left to be a legend in his own right without having to live as one under everyone’s scrutiny.’

Daisy thought about it for a moment. She could see their point. Her barely two-year-old nephew had just taken down the most evil wizard in history that wasn’t exactly something people would get over in a hurry. Whether good or bad. If they stayed in the wizarding world they’d be just as isolated anyway, confined by prying eyes and ears. To live as a muggle would keep him safe and free.

But to deprive him of magic?

To lie to him until he was of an age to understand it all felt wrong. It was depriving him a piece of himself. The true memory of his parents. Not to mention depriving herself of it. How could she speak of James and Lily in earnest with so many lies nestled in between to make everything sound normal.

Then again what choice would she have. To deny Dumbledore would only end up with him being shipped off to Petunia’s with him being forced to live this life anyway only without the benefit of her beside him. It was a lose-lose situation.

‘So what do we do?’ Daisy asked, earning a kind smile in return as Dumbledore rose from his seat, smoothing out his dark purple robes for a moment. ‘For now stay here,’ he said, ‘I’ll have a room set up for you whilst we make arrangements.’ ‘He can stay with me?’ she asked, though as Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles eyeing her closely she panicked that she’d asked the wrong thing. ‘Do you promise to fulfil your end of this agreement?’ he asked. ‘I promise,’ Daisy nodded. ‘Excellent,’ he smiled as though he’d just agreed for the Hogwarts house elves to make apple crumble instead of jam roly-poly for dessert and not a life changing decision, ‘Minerva if you could speak to Aberforth regarding a room and then if you could acquire some provisions for them both.’ ‘Yes Dumbledore,’ McGonagall said, slipping Harry off her lap and onto Daisy’s in such a fluid motion that he didn’t even disturb and instead kept guzzling away at his bottle which was near done. ‘Hagrid come with me,’ Dumbledore said, pressing his hand to the man’s shoulder, ‘I have things for you to do whilst I’m with the minister.’ ‘Right you are Dumbledore,’ Hagrid said, pulling himself from the chair and heading out the door McGonagall had just headed through.

Once it was just her and Dumbledore alone he smiled at her and nodded before saying, ‘I know this isn’t easy Miss Evans. But I must ask you to trust in me.’

And with that he flounced from the room, closing the door behind him gently. Daisy flopped back exhausted, finally closing her eyes for the first time since last night. None of it seemed real.

James. Lily. Voldemort. Peter. Sirius. Azkaban. Death. Harry.

Everything bounced around in her brain in a jumble of pain and sorrow but as she heard the teet of the bottle detaching and felt it fall into her lap she looked to find Harry watching her, his hand now done holding the bottle and instead holding her necklace.

Her Daisy chain that she’d worn every day since it had been bought for her.

A reminder of the now tainted memories it held. Without thinking she yanked at it, snapping the clasp apart and taking it from the boy's hand. He allowed her to, watching as she slipped it into her back pocket unsure of what to do with it just yet.

‘Just you and me eh?’ she asked, taking his hand in hers and kissing it, ‘just you and auntie Dais.’

Harry gurgled and smiled gummily at her.

‘Merlin help us both eh?’

SIRIUS BLACK/SERIES TAGS

@mysteriouslydelicateface @caitlin1996 @imthebadguyyy @maeisafangirl

#my writing #harry potter #sirius black fic #sirius black x ofc #marauders #marauders fic #sirius black x daisy evans #the other evans girl #the marauders #james potter #lily evans #lily potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew

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alectocarrowx · 4 months ago

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Alecto had not seen Walden since his visit to the Lestrange Manor to collect the item she was sent out for. He did seem rather disappointed with how the mission ended, but what was required was obtained, end of story.

"Mr. McNair." The witch allows a moment to pass, calming her nerves, at the mention of the bookshelf ends in her arms, she holds them tighter to her. "They are mine." A possessiveness comes out that she wasn't even aware of. "I assume all is handled." Nothing came back at her, which was a relief. "I am back, now." Ready for her next mission.

Walden had been browsing the shelves of Ye Olde Curiosity Shop for quite a while on one of his rare days off, when he suddenly caught sight of a familiar figure.

While he didn't particularly enjoy anyone's company, Alecto was one of his favourites, for what little that meant.

"Come now, miss Carrow, am I truly frightening enough to need that much bite in your tone?" He raised an eyebrow at her, hands clasped behind his back. "That is a nice piece for the shelf, indeed."

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thebaileyshaw · 5 years ago

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Science Bros!

“Hi! Are you talking to Edith again? What did you want to work on? Is it for work or fun? Were you at the Valentine’s Ball a few weeks ago? I saw a dead body and it was the most terrible thing I’ve ever seen, I had to start brewing dreamless sleep potions for myself. I was going to buy some because it’s easier but people have been getting poisoned, did you hear? Everything seems terrible now.”

Bailey spoke at a rapid pace upon seeing her friend again, not even realizing that she’d spoke more in a minute than she had in the last several weeks, both the product of normally being alone and also not realizing that an unconscious part of her considered Miriam a more precious friend than she ever realized. After all, Bailey didn’t like conversation at all, but Miriam was one of those people that not only she didn’t mind talking to, but derived some satisfaction from it. And so much had happened since they last saw each other, besides.

“Oh! It worked, by the way!” and without preamble she transformed into her animagus form, a juvenile kestrel that could easily have perched in Miriam’s palm. She hopped around the table between the cauldrons, fluttering her wings, looking up at Miriam, little bird heart bursting with as much pride and excitement as it had been filled with dream mere seconds ago when talking about death and poison.

@miriamclearwater

#miriamclearwater #(miriamclearwater5)#smokeclosed #this alright??#let me know if i should change anything at all #<3 #also are they #at McNair manor #or somewhere else?

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engie-ivy · 4 years ago

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Remus Lupin is very young when he joins the Order of the Phoenix to fight in the war. Young, but not naive. He knows that war isn't an exciting adventure with heroic battles, but pain, loss and grief. He has known this ever since his boyfriend was killed by Death Eaters when he was just seventeen years old. It only makes him more determined to fight.

And maybe the things we lose really do have a way of coming back to us in the end.

Wolfstar angst, but with a sappy, happy ending!

Moody doesn’t look up from his paper, and answers in the most casual manner. “Do you remember Sirius Black?”

Do you remember Sirius Black. Remus has only ever talked about it with James, as James understood. Not the black hole that Remus’ future had become, but at least the loss, grief and guilt. Apart from that, and some worried enquiries from professor McGonagall from time to time, his friends have been extremely careful not to even mention his name around Remus. Remus had always thought that was rather exaggerated and unnecessary, but now, hearing his name so suddenly, so casually mentioned, he thinks they may have had a point after all. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

Always meant to come back

The young man, almost a boy really, barely twenty years old, blinks his eyes open. He squints against the bright light in the room, and tries to sit up, but winches in pain and falls back on the bed.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Alastor warns. “We’ve had a Healer patch you up as good as possible, but your body has taken quite a hit, with all those hexes and curses thrown at you.”

“What...” the young man begins to ask.

“You’ll be fine,” Alastor ensures him. “You’re just going to have to take a lot of rest, at least until your wounds have healed. Especially the cuts on your back, probably from a Lashing Hex, may be dangerous if they’ll start bleeding again.”

The young man looks at him for a moment, pale, weary-eyed, with a deep cut on his cheek. “You’re not a Death Eater,” he states.

Alastor laughs shortly. “No, rather the opposite I’d say.”

The young man just looks at him questioningly.

“I’m an Auror,” Alastor clarifies. “Head of the Auror’s office at the Ministry.”

“That can’t be.” The young man shakes his head. “That would mean...”

“You’re safe,” Alastor says.

The young man lets his head fall back on the pillow and closes his eyes, releasing a shaky breath.

After a short silence, Alastor finally asks the question that’s been at the forefront of his mind ever since finding the young man. “You’re Sirius Black, aren’t you?”

The young man opens his eyes again. “Yeah,” he replies.

“Everyone thinks you’ve been dead for at least two years.”

Alastor remembers the story. It was one of the first tragedies of the war. The disowned heir of the house of Black, only seventeen years old at the time, not even graduated from Hogwarts yet, murdered by a group of Death Eaters. The Black family was already high on the list of persons of interest, due to them advocating for blood supremacy and openly supporting He Who Must Not Be Named’s regime. Their eldest son, however, who had already been known as the first Black to not be sorted in Slytherin house, had fallen out with his family and hadn’t been living with them for over a year at the time of the murder. Or, well, alleged murder.

“Two years?” Sirius mumbles. “I don’t know whether it seems like yesterday that I was still living my old life, or whether being at school actually feels like a lifetime ago. Maybe both.”

“What I gathered from the story at the time,” Alastor continues. “Was that a group of students from Slytherin house had purposely leaked information to you that your younger brother was to be sworn in as a Death Eater, and without properly thinking it through, you left to try and stop him and get him away from that evil alignment.”

“I did,” Sirius simply replies.

“That was an idiotic plan,” Alastor says. “Going on your own to a place you knew would be infested with Death Eaters, to save someone you didn’t even know wanted to be saved.”

Sirius huffs a laugh. “You sound just like Moony when he was telling me not to go.”

Alastor doesn’t know what a Moony is, so he just continues. “You never came back. They caught you, or maybe it had all been a trap to begin with, as the Slytherins who spilled the information later all became Death Eaters, and maybe some of them had even already joined at the time. Either way, the word spread that you had been killed by the Death Eaters.”

Hogwarts had been in shock, Alastor remembers. Not only did the death of a schoolmate make the war suddenly seem so much more real, Sirius Black had been bright, promising, loved. It had been a blow to almost the entire school to lose him.

“That’s what happened. Well,” Sirius gestures vaguely at himself. “Except for the being killed part, obviously.”

“Why didn’t they kill you?”

“My irresistible charm?” Sirius attempts with a weak smile. “No,” he then sighs with a pained look in his eyes. “It was my little brother. He said he’d only join their cause if they agreed to let me live. Most of the Death Eaters just wanted to kill us both then, not deeming him very important anyway, but my parents didn’t have a second spare heir ready, so they couldn’t afford to lose another son. They convinced them to imprison me instead of kill me.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “That’s the only time the power and influence of ‘The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black’ did me any good. Although I have often wished they had just killed me. Some of them ignored me, others liked to taunt me, and a few immensely enjoyed hurting me.”

Alastor feels a rare surge of empathy. It was a cruel fate indeed, to be locked up for so long under those conditions, and he had only been seventeen, barely more than a child.

“So how did I end up here?” Sirius asks.

“We placed a Tracing Charm on Goyle, and noticed he was regularly visiting a manor in the countryside, on paper owned by the Rosier family. This made us believe it to be an enemy headquarters, so we planned a raid. We disconnected the house from the Floo Network and placed an anti-apparition charm over the whole premises, before we invaded the place. Unfortunately, the ones present were in possession of illegal Portkeys, I still have to ask Mundungus Fletcher how they could’ve gotten those, and managed to get away. Upon searching the house, though, we found you locked in one of the rooms, severely injured and barely conscious.”

“Of the people I knew, is anyone... Do you know if anyone has been...?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Alastor answers. “To my knowledge, no one from your year at Hogwarts has been killed. I don’t think that there’s anyone you may have known among the victims.”

Sirius lets out a relieved breath. “I didn’t think there was either, as the Death Eaters would have jumped at the opportunity to rub it in my face had they hurt someone I knew, but still.”

“Of course, I don’t know about your brother,” Alastor adds. “As he’s not on our side.”

A flash of pain shows on Sirius’ face for a brief moment, but he quickly composes himself. “I’m sure Regulus is okay,” he mumbles. “If he’d been gone, I would’ve been dead.”

“The Ministry is doing a shite job fighting this war!” Sirius throws down the Daily Prophet on his bed. “Half of the people in this photo is either a traitor or under the Imperius Curse!”

Alastor glances down at the paper. On the front page is an article about Barty Crouch, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and his plan to fight violence with violence and legalise the Unforgivable Curses. The article is accompanied by several photos: Barty Crouch and his family, some other high-placed Ministry officials such as Augustus Rockwood and Walden McNair, and the heads of the influential Mulciber and Malfoy families, who are often thought to influence, or bribe, the Ministry.

Sirius is getting better, and he’s already proven his worth by passing all the valuable information he managed to pick up during his imprisonment on to Alastor.

“And the measures that they’ve been taking are hardly going to be sufficient to win this war,” Sirius adds.

“Well,” Alastor replies calmly. “Considering how corrupt the Ministry is, it’s a good thing they’re not taking more measures.”

“How can you care so little? You’re part of the Ministry, and forced to fight a losing battle.”

“That would be concerning indeed, if it was really the Ministry fighting this battle.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow, prompting Alastor to continue.

“There’s another group that forms the real opposition to He Who Must Not Be Named. A secret order of witches and wizards personally recruited by Dumbledore himself, fighting the Death Eaters behind the scenes.”

“I want to join,” Sirius immediately says.

“What you’ve been true is enough to traumatize someone for a lifetime,” Alastor says. “Are you sure you want to engage yourself even further with this war?”

“Bollocks,” Sirius replies. “I still have great magical skills and abilities, I was the best dueller at Hogwarts and I know better than anyone how these Death Eaters think and operate. You need me. You want me. You don’t give a crap about my emotional state, or you wouldn’t even have mentioned it.”

Alastor supresses a smile. Sirius is right. Alastor is eager to get him on board, but he felt like he had to at least symbolically offer him a way out, never expecting Sirius to actually take it. Truth is, his only goal is to win this war, by whatever means possible, and he doesn’t have it in him to care about an individual’s mental health.

“Very well then. Come to think of it, you might even see some familiar faces.”

“Lily, you look so...”

“Remus Lupin, if your next sentence contains the word ‘big’ or ‘huge’, then in Merlin’s name, I will hex you.”

“Eh... radiant?”

A very pregnant Lily rolls her eyes as she sits on the couch across from Remus. “I’m a bloody whale, I’m completely bloated and I feel like I’m just peeing all day.”

“Isn’t she just glowing?” James appears at Remus’ side, staring at Lily like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, which she probably is.

Remus chuckles. “You’re a very lucky man, Prongs.”

James sits down next to his wife, and Peter sits down next to Remus, while they all wait for the Order meeting to begin. The Prewetts arrive shortly after, and Marlene and Dorcas rush over to Lily to ask her a thousand questions on how she’s feeling. James just stares with an adoring, fond look, while Lily describes in detail how all her bodily functions have changed now she’s so very pregnant.

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Peter says.

Remus tries not to show any change in expression, but he can’t help his smile slightly faltering.

Unfortunately, Peter notices. “I mean, of course you know... I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s fine,” Remus says curtly. “Don’t worry about it.” His time of being young and in love is over. Yet, he doesn’t resent James for his happiness, just because his was taken away from him. After all, he knows that for James as well, not a day goes by on which he doesn’t miss him.

Professor McGonagall walks over to Lily to ask her about her due date, and Lily happily informs her that the baby is expected to be born this summer.

“From this September on, you’ll have eleven more years to prepare for Gryffindor’s next trouble maker!” James says.

“James Potter,” Lily scolds. “We agreed to not pressure this child about which house he should sorted into. That already goes into effect before he’s born.”

“Honestly professor,” James whispers too loud to professor McGonagall. “I already love this kid so bloody much. I wouldn’t even mind if he’ll end up in Slytherin!”

McGonagall chuckles. “You know, James, you really don’t have to call me professor anymore.”

James looks absolutely horrified at the idea.

Remus is glad they still see professor McGonagall so often. He doesn’t think he would’ve been able to make it through his last year at Hogwarts without her.

He’s always happy to see her, even though each time it reminds him of that one conversation. At first, he had been angry at him that he had gone anyway, and angry at himself for not realizing that of course he’d go anyway. Then, there had only been the anxious waiting for him to come back, until McGonagall had called Remus, James and Peter into her office and with more distress than he had ever seen her in, told them that he was not going to come back.

James had immediately started crying. Heart-wrenching sobs that went through the bone for the loss of his closest companion, his best friend, his brother. Remus had felt... nothing. It was like he heard the words, understood what the words meant, but did not comprehend what the words implied.

He hadn’t just lost someone he could talk to, someone he could trust, someone he could hold on to. He had lost a small home somewhere on the countryside just outside of London, with large fireplace in the living room and a small shed outside for the motorcycle. He had lost a large garden with an aviary for the owls and enough space for the dogs to run around. He had lost taking time off from working as a teacher and a Healer to spend a few weeks by the coast each summer. He had lost summer evenings in the garden, inviting friends over for a barbecue, a small Quidditch field in the backyard, little children running around. He had lost a future he never thought he could actually have, but had set his heart on anyway.

It took a week. A week of feeling nothing. A week of seeing the worried stares and hearing the constant whispers from his schoolmates. A week before the pain and grief hit him at full force.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by Marlene’s voice. “Remember, when Moody gets here, don’t mention the Rosier manor-raid.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yes, McKinnon. I don’t have a death wish.”

Remus shakes his head. “I can’t even imagine how pissed he must be about it. All that planning, just for each and every Death Eater to get away.”

“He’s gonna be livid,” Marlene agrees. “This is not gonna be a happy meeting.”

“I was so disappointed when I heard it,” Lily sighs. “It felt like we finally had something on them, and now we have to start all over.”

Remus wonders what kind of missions they’re going to assign people to this time. Lily has scolded him before for always volunteering for the most dangerous ones, but to Remus it seems perfectly logical. If he goes, his friends don’t have to go, and he has the least to live for anyway. He said as much one time. James had cried and Lily had yelled at him, so he doesn’t say it anymore. At least not out loud.

It isn’t long before Moody enters the room, looking as battered and grizzled as ever, and commands the meeting to begin. Everyone immediately gathers around the table, as no one, except Dumbledore and McGonagall when it’s absolutely necessary, dares to oppose Alastor Moody.

“Right. We have much to discuss,” Moody says in his growling voice. “First point of order, I’ve gotten confirmation regarding our suspicions about Mulciber, and we should from now on assume that each person working in his vicinity is under the influence of the Imperius Curse and cannot be trusted. Moreover, I received intelligence that Augustus Rockwood, Walden McNair and Barty Crouch Jr. are traitors.”

Everyone sucks in a breath of surprise and disbelief.

“Mr. Crouch’s own son?” McGonagall asks. “An accusation like that can put us in a lot of trouble. Where did you get this kind of intelligence, Alastor?”

“I obtained it from the Rosier manor-raid,” Moody replies, and another wave of surprise goes around the table. No one had expected Moody to bring up the failed attempt himself.

Remus frowns. He has never underestimated the enemy and he knows the Death Eaters aren’t stupid enough to leave a list of names of everyone who’s secretly a traitor. And if they did, it can only be a trap, but Moody must know that better than anyone.

“How?” McGonagall asks, apparently on the same train of thought.

Moody doesn’t look up from his paper, and answers in the most casual manner. “Do you remember Sirius Black?”

Do you remember Sirius Black? Do you remember Sirius Black? Do you remember Sirius Black. Remus has only ever talked about it with James, as James understood. Not the black hole that Remus’ future had become, but at least the loss, grief and guilt. Apart from that, and some worried enquiries from professor McGonagall from time to time, his friends have been extremely careful not to even mention his name around Remus. Remus had always thought that was rather exaggerated and unnecessary, but now, hearing his name so suddenly, so casually mentioned, he thinks they may have had a point after all. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

James has gotten pale as a sheet and Lily has automatically grabbed his hand, while Peter is throwing worried glances in Remus’ direction. Professor McGonagall has her lips pressed tightly together, and is looking at Moody with a look that clearly says ‘you better have a very good reason for this’.

Moody, completely oblivious to the sudden tension in the room, just keeps talking. If his previous words had been shocking, it’s nothing compared to the effect his next words produce. “You must have heard of it, I believe some of you were at Hogwarts when the whole ordeal took place. As it turns out, he was actually held captive by the Death Eaters. We found him locked up in the Rosier manor in quite a state, but we managed to patch him up, and he was able to give us quite some valuable information.”

Remus hears the words, but can’t process their meaning. He just stares, waiting for Moody to say ‘just kidding’ or wake up from this dream. Nothing happens for a long moment, until Marlene breaks the silence. “But everyone gave the same account... They all said... How?”

Moody makes a dismissive gesture. “There was some family drama involved I believe. But he can tell you himself in due time. He has agreed to join the Order, actually.”

“You’re lying.” Moody finally looks up at hearing James’ angry tone. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying.”

“Calm down, Potter,” Moody replies. “We can talk about it after the meeting, if we must.”

Remus only realises he has stood up when he notices everyone looking at him. He gives Moody a steely look. “Let me see him.”

“Lupin, we’re in the middle of a meeting. We still have much to discuss.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your damned meeting!” Remus shouts. “Let. Me. See. Him.”

Moody regards him for a moment, and then nods.

Maybe Moody is tricking them as a test. Maybe Moody is delusional and there’s no one there. Maybe someone has tricked Moody and is leading them into a trap. Maybe Moody is under the influence of the Imperius Curse himself and is leading them into a trap. Remus goes over every option in is head as he, James and Lily use the Floo network to go Moody’s safe house. Every option except one. The one he doesn’t allow himself to even think of.

He realises that many option would put them in immediate danger, but he only cares for James and Lily’s sake. If this really is a cruel trick, it’d almost be a relief to be killed right after. Even without allowing himself to hope, he couldn’t handle the disappointment.

But they step into the room, and there he is.

In the living room, fast asleep on the couch, covered by a thin blanket. One hand dangling over the edge of the couch, the other on his stomach, his chest softly going up and down in time with his breathing.

He’s less muscular and a lot thinner than before. His face looks very pale in sharp contrast with his dark, now very long, hair, with a healing cut on his cheek and a receding bruise under his eye.

But it’s him, unmistakably him.

Odd enough, the first thought that occurs to Remus is that he has always wanted Sirius to grow his hair out and that he hopes he doesn’t cut it too soon. At this moment, he seems unable to form any other coherent thought.

Suddenly, he feels James’ hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him forward. “Go to him.”

Remus stumbles forward. He falls down on his knees next to the couch in front of Sirius’ face. He reaches out a trembling hand and touches Sirius’ cheek.

Sirius’ eyes, those eyes nothing can compare to, fly open. Startled, Sirius sits up with a bewildered look. He first sees James and Lily standing there, looking at him.

“Prongs? Evans?”

Then he turns his head towards Remus, and his eyes, filled with emotion, widen.

“Moony?” His voice slightly breaks.

“Hi,” Remus whispers.

Sirius reaches out and gently strokes his thumb over Remus’ cheek. Remus only now realises that there are tears streaming down his face. They stare at each other for a breathless moment. Then, at the same time, they move and wrap each other in an impossibly tight embrace, both whispering unnecessary apologies, as neither thinks there’s anything to forgive the other for.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a stubborn arse, I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t even say goodbye. I’m sorry I didn’t come back. I meant to come back. I always meant to come back.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t come and get you. I’m sorry I never came to bring you home. I gave up on you, and I’m so, so sorry.”

Eventually, James can’t hold back anymore and he flies forward to embrace is brother, and upon seeing him desperately crying, Sirius starts to cry as well.

When he’s more composed, James starts asking Sirius a hundred questions to check if it’s really him. Sirius effectively shuts him up by informing Lily that James stole one of her T-shirts in fifth year and slept with it in his bed for two years.

“I hate you so much, Padfoot! And I missed you more than you’ll ever know, and don’t you ever leave me again!”

This exchange is followed by Sirius going on for ten minutes: “Evans, you’re pregnant. You’re pregnant with a child. Prongs’ child. Evans, you’re pregnant with Prongs’ child. You’re having a baby. Prongs is having a baby. You and Prongs are having a baby. Together. You let Prongs get you pregnant.”

All the while, Remus is still sitting on the ground next to him, their hands firmly clasped together.

Eventually, they have to go back to the Order meeting, and of course want to inform the others. Peter will be ecstatic and professor McGonagall might cry. Lily kisses Sirius on his cheek and James hugs him again, after letting him promise five times that he’ll still be there tomorrow and he’s not going to disappear again.

“You know, Moony, if you want to go to the Order meeting, you’ll have to let go of my hand,” Sirius says with a small smile, without making any attempt of releasing his grip himself.

Remus smiles back. “No, I’m never letting you go again.”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter #lily evans #jily #alastor moody #first wizarding war #hurt sirius black #james potter is a good friend #wolfstar angst

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thosebizzareserpents · 5 years ago

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The Mulciber Manor was ablaze and the body of Ramiel Mulciber lay a few feet away. One of the first of the Dark Lord's followers was dead.

By morning the fire would still be going spreading towards the "Forest of Paradise", Mulciber's private garden. Augustus Rookwood surveyed the surrounding area. Ramiel's son Ornais Mulciber was in a raging fit back at the Malfoy Manor, and was only calmed when Robert Sewlyn and Seth Avery Jr. dragged him off into one of the rooms. Truculent Nott and Walden McNair thought the Order of the Phoenix were on the offense, upping the ante and deciding to stop playing nice. This was war after all.

Last year in 1996, they took out key Order members Sirius Black and Emmeline Vance. They halted the ministry with the death of judge Amelia Bones and Unspeakable Broderick Bode. Blood-traitor Sebastian Abbott's muggle wife was done away with, so was Verity Macmillan’s uncle Florean Fortescue.

But their side also took a critical hit with the death of Gevais Rosier. Gervais youngest and surviving son Felix Rosier did not care for his late father and brother’s associations and had already left Europe years before. It was was ballsy going after a founding member of the Death Eaters.

Augustus knew better. This wasn't the Order's doing at all. This was the work of someone else.

And that someone was watching him.

"You can come out now."

A young witch stepped out the shadows into the courtyard. The rising sun illuminating behind her auburn hair.

"Good Morning Mr. Rookwood."

"Ah, good morning Miss Bones, I take it your night was quite eventful."

They will continue to be, I have no doubt about that.

"A parlay if you will Miss Bones? there are a few things I wish to discuss." I can be quite civil."

Augustus started at the remains of his fallen comrade. Ramiel Mulciber was a beast of man and it seemed the wizard suffered the same fate as that of his "pets."

"This was not an easy kill." A truly magnificent feat but you had help. Do you believe that you have put dent in the Dark Lord's plans?"

"I say it was more of a group effort. You don't understand though you all have become very sloppy over the decades making mistakes."

"And you know what they say about mistakes Mr. Rookwood? Don't hide from them because they'll find and they'll burn you."

"We are the worse kind of mistake."

Just who are "we" may I ask?

"We are a backdraft."

"The Death Eaters may follow Lord Voldemort but is seems the senior members have agendas of their own and that includes you too Mr. Rookwood."

"Senior members? "Don't flatter us young lady."

"I would never Ser Augustus."

"Time is drawing thin for you and your fellow Knights of Walpurgis."

Augustus smiled. This child was taught well. She was becoming a master of the art of war. The granddaughter of Roderick Bones was methodical and chaotic. It was, dare he say a new thrill and challenge he hadn't faced in a very long time.

"Miss Bones I must take my leave as you know the authorities will be here at any moment, but I do look forward to our next meeting.

"Likewise Mr. Rookwood."

#second wizarding war #death eaters #embers of salamender #EoS #augustus rookwood #susan bones

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thetruebloodofsalazar · 5 years ago

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@crucioslut

When he had returned, he had been displeased that Bella had been absent, that she had been imprisoned within the walls of Azkaban prison. She was his lieutenant, his loyal and faithful follower who would have followed him till the ends of the earth. She would be rewarded in time for her service. She had made one of the greatest sacrifices that could ever be made by one of his followers. He had to wonder what the intervening years would have been like if she had been free and searching for him. She would have found him and she would have brought him back to his body, brought him into the world anew much sooner and the blight that was Harry Potter would have been dead before he reached his 8th birthday. Instead, he had languished for years in a most disgusting state, surviving as mere spirit by inhabiting the bodies of small animals, lower life forms.

He had wanted to liberate her and his remaining followers as a point of urgency but there was a time and a place for such action and it had to be planned perfectly. He did not want his presence to be revealed to the world at large, not yet and liberating prisoners from Azkaban too early would cause more problems. It had always been at the forefront of his mind though. She was a great weapon, influential within his movement and he had to see her again, to see if she was still loyal and true, if she was still his Bella.

The liberation had been planned and implemented successfully, the Dementors had naturally fallen in line with the world that he had promised them. It was to be expected for they were dark creatures and they had been slowly starving over the years, tied as they were to Azkaban. He would allow them reign to wander their world, he would unleash them upon the muggle world and that had excited them, bringing them a step closer towards a frenzy of feeding. He had not personally appeared at Azkaban, choosing instead to send Avery and McNair. He would have sent Malfoy but he was too prominent a figure in wizarding society to be seen and his focus was on accessing the department of mysteries to bring him the prophecy. It was not yet His time to be seen and so He had remained at Malfoy Manor, the current base of operations so as to speak.

Once his faithful had been liberated, they were placed in another section of the Manor, furthest away from prying eyes and, far enough away from Him. He had watched from the window of the Library as Bella had arrived with her fellow shuffling death eaters. She was looking around, looking for Him and there was a moment when she looked up at the window and their gazes locked, that familiar spark of connection between them and her body seemed to positively vibrate as she recognised him. He turned on his heel and returned to perusing the volumes in the extensive Malfoy collection, some of the texts gifts that had been given by him over the years as a reward for faithful service. The conflicting perceptions of the outsiders concerning his movement was one that brought distaste to the mouth. His followers joined voluntarily, they were not forced or coerced and they were rewarded for their service. They were not twisted and evil bound and bent to his will, they were pure and they were committed to his vision. They were independent and they were not villains, they were far more complex than that. They were not nameless and faceless followers without personality although he did insist on masks when they were out on assignment in order to protect their identity. There were certain members of his inner circle who did not wear masks and they were allowed to do so under certain circumstances and Bella herself was one of them. He liked to see the fire in her eyes and the animation in her face, a mask would spoil that.

He had decreed that his faithful would each receive their own rooms and that they would be left to readjust to their new life, readjust to being out of Azkaban. He intended to leave them for days, weeks, until they were required but he could not resist the temptation to see Bella. She was summoned, Narcissa bringing her sister to his door, leading her into the room and then silently backing out and closing the door behind her. His beautiful, vivacious Bella.

“My Lord.” The words were a whispered devotion passing from her lips and he could feel her excitement, the curls in her hair bouncing as she resisted the urge to run to him. Instead she dropped to the floor, looking up at him as though he were a god in human form, her eyes alive with that fire he had hoped Azkaban would not have torn from her. Although her features were more sunken and waxy than the last time he had seen her, her natural beauty still prevailed and he closed the distance between them, reaching out for her, spidery fingers brushing her cheek with all the tenderness of a lover.

"Bella, my Bella, have you missed me all these years?" His voice was soft and she shivered as though the words were a silken caress against her skin. Her mind was open as it always had been to him and he gently touched it, conscious of how fragile and delicate it was after the years of her incarceration.

"My Lord, please." She whispered, almost begging him and he smiled at her, that thin lipped smile that would strike fear in the hearts of others but in his Bella inspired only devotion; complete and utter devotion. He was still her everything, he could see that and it brought him a thrill of pleasure.

"Hush now, hush." He practically crooned, bending at the knees so he was at eye level, his other hand rising to touch her other cheek, fingers moving to cup her face, his eyes searching her own, that connection between them as strong as ever. It was as though no time had passed at all. "All will be well and the world shall once again tremble at our feet." He leaned forward then, pressing his lips against her forehead and she sighed, leaning in to him.

#crucioslut #bellamort #bellatrix lestrange #lord voldemort #tom riddle

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msdaisymacnair · 5 years ago

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Castle Tour

@zephyrbcll

Daisy spent a lot of her weekends away from the castle. McNair Manor wasn’t terribly far away, and the temptation to spend her whole weekend hidden away with her new husband was so strong. Daisy would be lying if she said she’d hadn’t spent the first month of school in such a routine. When October arrived, she and Walden had to acknowledge that both of them had things that needed to be done on the weekends which required leaving the house and not always being together.

This weekend he’d needed to be at the Ministry, and after a little consideration, Daisy thought it seemed like a good time to catch up with grading and just experience the castle with students around. Their first Hogsmeade weekend was approaching, and she loved the anticipation in the air.

At the last minute, Daisy checked with Dumbledore to see if it would be possible to have a guest in the castle. As soon as he gave the go ahead, Daisy sent a letter to Zephyr inquiring if he wanted to see the castle.

For that reason, Daisy was now waiting in front of the fire in her office. It had been temporarily connected for the day. She understood why they weren’t connected all the time, but she did find it silly to have so many floo entrances when they all seemed to be closed.

#zephyrbcll

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softboi-malfoy-archived-blog · 5 years ago

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Strange Meetings

Lucius did not like being around people. Mostly because, in his life, people expected things of him which he either could not deliver, or could only after a vast amount of turmoil and pain. Really, in a perfect world Lucius never left the haven of Malfoy Manor- with Narcissa it had become a place of dreams, rather than nightmares- and no-one ever expected anything of him again. Alas, the world he lived in was far from perfect.

Which was why he found himself stepping out to meet Walden McNair, of all people, for lunch. Not only was McNair a Ministry executioner, but Lucius had seen the kind of violence he reveled in when behind a Death Eater’s mask, and that delight gave him chills. How such a man could be so charismatic in public, and so violent in private, was beyond him. How he’d ended up with someone as pretty and sweet as Daisy Hookum was equally baffling. Lucius had met her at Malcolm’s wedding and been surprised but delighted by their ease of conversation, how unpretentious she was. Perhaps it was an American thing?

“McNair,” he greeted, public mask of the neutral, forgettable pureblood heir firmly in place as he finally found their table at the chosen restaurant. “It’s good to see you again.” No, it really wasn’t. “How has Daisy been?” A genuine question, considering her fiance’s arrest a month ago must have been quite the harrowing affair.

@toomcnairtocare

#toomcnairtocare #waldenmcnair #(toomcnairtocare1)#smokeclose

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gothalbinoangel-fanfiction · 6 years ago

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Devotion of a Broken Witch ch21 sneak peek

Ko-Fi requests are open Commissions are open

Time passed as Bellatrix flipped her way through pages in the library’s solace. Her mind remained enraptured by the tales she read, keeping her from becoming restless and doing something far worse to the recruits than her pet would’ve. Most would assume she liked reading the books full of dark magic, and they would be correct. However, her favorites were the ones she and her sisters used to read as children, before the three of them went their separate paths. With these, she could get lost in the story, like when she was younger, and time passed more easily.

At last, it was time to head out. Dark Marks flared to life all over the manor. Those being summoned were cheered on by their friends, receiving claps on the back as they made their way to the drawing room. Bellatrix strode through the halls calmly, her Mudblood walking dutifully beside her. The newer recruits watched them warily, knowing neither witch was to be trifled with. Any well wishes in their direction would either be met with silence or a hex, depending on either’s mood.

Bellatrix stepped into the drawing room and Mulciber grinned at her. “Glad to know we’ve got our ace comin’ along,” he laughed.

“Naturally,” Bellatrix snickered. “It’s not a party without me, now is it?”

“Right ya are,” Antonin agreed. “Gonna be a real treat, wreakin’ some havoc on the school.”

“Please remember that we’re here on a mission,” Lucius sighed with a mocking roll of his eyes. “Don’t mess the school up too much. We’re just the distraction.”

Both Bellatrix and Antonin stuck their tongues out at him. They all straightened when their leader stood. Red eyes surveyed the room and Voldemort nodded. “Good. It looks like we’re all here. Those of you who are new, follow McNair. He’ll get you cloaks. This will be the chance for you to earn your masks.”

The new recruits all buzzed excitedly and gathered around McNair, who was summoning cloaks for them all. Bellatrix turned to her Mudblood. “Stay here,” she ordered. “I expect my room to be prepared for my return. If it’s anything short of spotless, I won’t hesitate to flay you. Clear?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Hermione responded. She wasn’t interested in being tortured again. She’d been doing such a good job recently that she rarely got punished. However, she had no doubts that, with how important tonight was, even one mistake would enrage her volatile mistress.

“Actually,” Voldemort interrupted them, eyes on the Mudblood. “Take the Mudblood with you, Bellatrix. Let’s test her resolve.”

“Her resolve, My Lord?” Bellatrix asked in confusion.

“She has stated that she wishes revenge on those who have betrayed her. Well, Mudblood. You’re the one who’s going to kill Albus Dumbledore.”

#Goth Albino Angel #Bellamione #Harry Potter #Bellatrix Black Lestrange #Hermione Granger #Angel's Craft #sneak peek

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alettj · 3 years ago

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Juve Wilhemina Selwyn

⸻⸻ ( + ) 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐀.

Born in 2008, Selwyn Manor, Edimburgo. - 28 y/o.

Married to Hugo Weasley. Madre de dos (2).

Co-directora del Departamento de Cooperación Mágica Internacional.

Ex-Slytherin.

⸻⸻ ( + )

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌: Harry Potter. 𝐅𝐂: Kaya Scodelario. 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄: Out-Canon. 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: 3G.

⸻⸻⸻⸻ (+) 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

↬⇢ Ares Selwyn [padre]. ↬⇢ Wilhemina Selwyn McNair [madre]. ↬⇢ Theodore Selwyn [abuelo]. ↬⇢ Hugo C. Weasley [cónyuge]. ↬⇢ Aeryn S. Weasley [hija]. ↬⇢ Schedar Weasley [hijo]. ↬⇢ Lily L. Potter [mejor amiga]. ↬⇢ Nashira Mcnair [Institutriz, tía].

Kaya Scodelario for The Laterals (2020)

#muses #basic data juve selwyn #harry potter oc

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rxbxstxn · 7 years ago

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Basics:

Character’s Name → Rabastan Nathaniel Lestrange

Character’s Nickname(s) → Rab, Lestrange, Rabby (by Rodolphus only)

Age → 17

Birthdate → 19th May

Zodiac Sign → Taurus

Ethnicity → British

Gender → Male

Sexual Orientation → Heterosexual

Blood Type → A+

Species → Pureblood

Appearance:

Hair color → Dark brown, almost black

Eye color → Chocolate Brown

Height → 5′9

Weight → 11 Stone 9 pounds

Scars → A couple of various small scars that he doesn’t remember where they came from, probably from either playing or fighting with Rodolphus as a child, but one large scar on the back of his leg from his father’s belt.

Tattoos → The Dark Mark on his forearm

Birthmarks → A small one on his lower

Piercings → None

Dress/clothing preferences → Rab likes to look his best at all times so whe he’s not in his robes, he’ll be dressed in a smart shirt and trousers, with black shoes.

Right/left handed/ambidextrous → Ambidextrous, but he favours his right hand.

Glasses/contacts → No

Wizarding World:

Blood Status → Pureblood

School Attended → Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy

School House → Slytherin

War Alliance → Death Eaters

Wand → 10 ¾ inches, willow, dragon heart string, surprisingly swishy

Patronus → He is unable to cast one

Boggart → His father, and being unable to stop him from hurting him, his brother and those he cares about such as his mother and Dorcas.

Amortentia → Vanilla body scent that he can’t place on anyone in particular, Theodora’s shampoo, rust and blood.

Mirror Of Erised → The only things Rabastan sees when he looked into the Mirror is himself smiling; he wants to be happy, but he has no idea how he is supposed to accomplish that.

Family and Relationships:

Parents → Amalthea and Radolphus Lestrange

Siblings → Rodolphus Lestrange

Grandparents → They’re dead, passed away a long time ago.

Marital Status → Single at the moment, but he’s waiting for a betrothal to be forced upon him.

Significant Other → Currently, none.

Children → None

Pets → A female barn owl called Kira

Other family members → Bellatrix Black (future sister-in-law)

Friends → Dorcas Meadowes, Walden McNair, Theodora Flint, Alecto Carrow, Amycus Carrow, Evan Rosier, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black

Enemies → Vincent Mulciber, Lily Evans, Mary Macdonald, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Alice Fortescue,

Religion:

The religion they follow (if any) → None

Superstitions → He doesn’t trust black cats.

Location:

Country of Birth → Oxford

Place of Birth (Town, city, etc) → Oxford

First Language → English

Accents → None, but his words are very pronounced and sound a little posh.

Schooling:

House → Slytherin

Best Subject in School → Defence Against The Dark Arts

Worst Subject in School → History of Magic

Additional Classes Taken → Ancient Runes, Arithmancy

Quidditch → He doesn’t like it; it’s a pointless sport.

Are they a Prefect? → No

Extra curricular activities → None

Home:

Live with parents/grandparents/alone/other → Lives with his parents and brother

House, apartment, etc → Manor house

How Many Bedrooms? → Five, although they definitely don’t need that many.

Mode of transportation → Walking, or on a broom.

Picture of bedroom at home → Bedroom

Address → 4 Wallaby Drive, Oxford

Inner Workings Of Your Character:

Secrets → Rab constantly battles with himself on whether he is doing the right thing, especially when he cares about Dorcas so much. He knows that being close to the Dark Arts could push him over the edge at any moment, but he doesn’t want to lose her or Theodora.

Fears → Losing himself completely, losing his brother, scaring Dorcas away and his father.

Worries → Rab worries most about the people he cares about, and what will happen to them in the war. They may not survive, and that kills him inside. He knows he can’t keep the all safe though without compromising himself or losing the respect of his family.

Eating Habits → Never having been a big eater, Rabastan usually has the same thing for breakfast, toast or some porridge, skips lunch and will maybe have a piece of fruit and will then eat dinner. No dessert.

Food preferences → Having been raised eating luxury meals all of his life, he has been subject to trying a lot of things and generally isn’t a fussy eater; but as long as he gets a cup of tea in the morning, he’ll be fine.

Sleep preferences → Rab tosses and turns in his sleep, never really getting a decent night since he got the Dark Mark on his arm.

Book preferences → He actually doesn’t mind reading, and likes to curl up in the common room by the fire with a good book that he has brought from the vast library in their manor house.

Music preferences → He’d rather sit and read honestly, but if he does listen to music, it is usually classical music that his mother and father introduced him to as a child.

Introverted/extroverted → Introverted

Optimist/pessimist → Pessimist

Hobbies → Torturing, drinking, reading, having sex.

Pet peeves → People who are ignorant, people who are late, and people who are hypocritical.

Prejudices → Pureblood supremacist with minor exceptions, and he’s very anti-Gryffindor.

Proud of → Nothing, Rabastan doesn’t feel as if he has acomplished much in his life.

Biggest vulnerability → Dorcas and Theodora. They’re two of his biggest weaknesses that he would never admit to.

Embarrassed by → Nothing much embarrasses him, as he tries to keep himself out of embarrassing situations. He hates making a fool of himself.

Worst memory → The first time he felt blood on his hands almost made him feel sick. He hated the way it felt, because he loved it at the same time. He realised then that there was no salvation for him.

Best memory → Being sorted into Slytherin, and looking over to see his brother smiling at him.

Skilled at → The Cruciatus Curse, duelling, sex (he’s always had good comments so far), drinking, tuning people out.

Unskilled at → Compassion, maths, History of Magic, anything muggle and asking for help.

Attitude → Overall, he’s basically a dick to everyone that he doesn’t like or know, and it’s all that nice to the people he calls his friends. There’s only a small number of people that he’s generally nice to.

Obsessions → Tidiness, being on time and cleanliness.

Stresses → The war is his biggest stress; school is on the back burner for now.

Addictions → None, but he does love to drink.

Allergies → Kiwi fruit and peanuts.

Medical history → Undiagnosed OCD and depression.

Favourite Object Kept In - And Why:

Their closet → His grandfather’s cloak; he asked his father for it when his grandfather died and it has been in his wardrobe ever since.

Their bedroom → Rab loves his bed and it’s one of the main reasons he enjoys coming home from school.

Their purse/bag → He doesn’t carry a bag.

Their fridge → An ice cold ale to take the edge off of the day; or a home-made scone with clotted cream and jam.

Their desk → His foe glass; it’s handy to have around in case someone that doesn’t favour him suddenly turns on him.

Their pockets → His wand or some galleons.

Favourites:

Favorite Animal: → Horse

Favorite Band: → He doesn’t have one.

Favorite Book: → The Silmarillion; it’s all right for a muggle story about magic.

Favorite Color: → Green

Favorite Country → Portugal

Favorite Drink: → Bungbarrel Spiced Mead

Favorite Food: → As stated above, home-made scones with clotted cream and jam.

Favorite Flavor: → Savoury

Favorite Movie: → He doesn’t watch movies.

Favorite Musical Genre: → Classical

Favorite Mythical Creature: → Dragon

Favorite Number: → 12

Favorite Pastime: → Reading alone by the fireplace

Favorite Person: → Dorcas Meadowes

Favorite Place: → His bedroom in their Portuguese Villa

Favorite Season: → Winter

Favorite Song: → The Four Seasons opera by Vivaldi.

Favorite Spell: → Cruico

Least Favorite Animal: → Bumblebee

Least Favorite Band: → He doesn’t have one

Least Favorite Book: → Any love story

Least Favorite Color: → Yellow

Least Favorite Country: → Ireland

Least Favorite Drink: → Nettle Wine

Least Favorite Food: → Mashed Potatoes

Least Favorite Flavor: → Sour

Least Favorite Movie: → He doesn’t watch television.

Least Favorite Musical Genre: → Rock

Least Favorite Mythical Creature: → Mandrake

Least Favorite Number: → 13

Least Favorite Pastime: → Studying

Least Favorite Person: → Currently, it’s a three-way tie between his father, his brother or Vincent Mulciber.

Least Favorite Place: → Hogwarts

Least Favorite Season: → Spring

Least Favorite Song: → He doesn’t have one

Least Favorite Spell: → Expecto Patronum

Sexual Life:

Gender You Last Had Sex With: → Female

Dominant or Submissive: → Dominant

Fetishes: → Rough Sex, voyuerism

Turnons: → Blood, adrenaline rushes, biting, scratching, kissing his neck

Turn-offs: → Any other bodily fluids, whining, talking and taking too long.

Favourite Position: → Her pressed up against the wall with him holding her up, her legs around his waist.

How Active is Your Sex Life: → It was rather active until he recently broke up with Theodora, so it’s taken a dip.

How Did You Loose Your Virginity: → To a Slytherin girl he doesn’t even remember the name of.

Ever Impregnated Someone or Been Pregnant → No

First Love: → Theodora Flint

Who Do You Find Attractive → Theodora Flint, Dorcas Meadowes, Alecto Carrow, Bellatrix Black (when she’s not talking).

Marital Status: → Singe

Do You Have A Significant Other (if yes, how do you feel about them): → No

Personality Classification:

Jung → ISTJ - The ISTJ personality type is thought to be the most abundant, making up around 13% of the population. Their defining characteristics of integrity, practical logic and tireless dedication to duty make ISTJs a vital core to many families, as well as organizations that uphold traditions, rules and standards, such as law offices, regulatory bodies and military. People with the ISTJ personality type enjoy taking responsibility for their actions, and take pride in the work they do – when working towards a goal, ISTJs hold back none of their time and energy completing each relevant task with accuracy and patience.

Enneagram → Type 8 - Eights are self-confident, strong, and assertive. Protective, resourceful, straight-talking, and decisive, but can also be ego-centric and domineering. Eights feel they must control their environment, especially people, sometimes becoming confrontational and intimidating. Eights typically have problems with their tempers and with allowing themselves to be vulnerable. At their Best: self- mastering, they use their strength to improve others' lives, becoming heroic, magnanimous, and inspiring.

Moral Alignment → Chaotic Evil - A chaotic evil character does whatever his greed, hatred, and lust for destruction drive him to do. He is hot-tempered, vicious, arbitrarily violent, and unpredictable. If he is simply out for whatever he can get, he is ruthless and brutal. If he is committed to the spread of evil and chaos, he is even worse. Thankfully, his plans are haphazard, and any groups he joins or forms are poorly organized. Typically, chaotic evil people can be made to work together only by force, and their leader lasts only as long as he can thwart attempts to topple or assassinate him.

Four Temperaments → Melancholic

Vices → Drinking, being consumed by his own self-doubt

Virtues → Being strong willed, being loyal.

Tropes → Meaningful Name, Torture Technician, Out of Focus, Undying Loyalty

Statistics:

Compassion → 3/10

Empathy → 4/10

Creativity → 5/10

Mental Flexibility → 6/10

Passion/Motivation → 5/10

Intelligence → 9/10

Stamina → 8/10

Physical Strength → 9/10

Battle Skill → 9/10

Initiative → 7/10

Restraint → 1/10

Agility → 7/10

Strategy → 8/10

Teamwork → 4/10

#bellumvecharacterdev1 #me #character development #rabastan lestrange

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ao3feed-snape · 4 years ago

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-Immer Angst-

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/2X71tJC

by Nerdyxwitch

Growing up in a family like the Blacks, 𝙸𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚒𝚗 was not 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 a motto, it was a lifestyle.

But for people like Cassiopeia Aurora Black, Immer Rein was-𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎. At the cutting age of three was she betrothed, and from there the stakes only continued to wane further. Rory is torn between making the right choice, or standing by those of violence and strict beliefs.

Follow the Dark Lord 𝙾𝚁 follow the Order. ______

Immer Rein hadn't expired just yet, even with her chosen path, Cassiopeia was still expected to marry a man that her parents had arranged long ago.

With this marriage, she would no longer be considered a Black.

Instead, she would share the esteemed title of Madam Lestrange just like her dear cousin.

This powerful union would she be able to claim her stance as mistress to her own household. One of which she demanded order, but little was to be done with what happened outside her gated manor...

Words: 8138, Chapters: 2/82, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of IMMER

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/M

Characters: Original Female Character, Rabastan Lestrange, Sirius Black, Regulus Black, James Potter, Lily Evans/Poter, Bellatrix Lestrange, Avery, McNair, Orion Black, Walburga Black, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort, Dumbledore, Severus Snape

Relationships: Rabastan Lestrange/OC

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2X71tJC

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Severus Snape #Snape #Professor Snape #SS

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rabxstanlestrange · 7 years ago

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Paradise Lost | Cassandra + Rabastan

Self para

Date: April 17th Time: 2:50 AM Location: Lestrange Family Manor

“How unfortunate,” Cassandra murmured while rotating a filled glass with bourbon clockwise, looking down out of habit. Rabastan laid on the floor, his body fixated with the Imperius curse. She flicked her wand once, just so that he could speak to her and, just like she wished, he even got to stand up and obediently hid his hands behind his back. “I thought you’d be gone for at least a few more hours, considering your mission included killing one of the more important politicians. I underestimated you -- and Alecto, as well. What has she been up to, lately? And Amycus, too? I rarely get to see him anymore. Such a pity, I really liked his dry humor and his mad laugh,” Cassandra shrugged and sat down, her wand still pointing to Rabastan who silently watched Cassandra in return. Though he’d clenched his jaw slightly, his body only reacted slightly. “What do you want?” he smelled like smoke, was covered in blood and had no interest in hearing his old friend’s new plan, but maybe she’d leave if he cooperated.

“Nothing in particular,” she lied “you know, the same thing everybody wants. Power, love, freedom and control.” Cassandra took a sip from her bourbon and chuckled. She loved the way he looked at her, the reserved look on his face paired with anger, frustration and yet, obedience, because he simply couldn’t help himself. His entire body shook as he tried to break free from her compulsion, but he simply couldn’t. “I actually want you to believe I’ve gone missing. Not dead, but simply missing. Ah, and there’s one more thing,” her finger tipped against her lips. “Walden McNair. Why’s he searching for me? I need to know. Sheer curiosity? I want you to distract him.” Cassandra had stood up by now, a sigh escaping her lips.

“I will not obey, I will,” furious at his lack of control, he started to press his teeth together. “I will kill you,” from one second to the other Cassandra had come closer and manipulated him further. “I’ve gone missing,”

“You’ve gone missing. Cassandra Burke’s missing.” “And I need you to distract Walden. I don’t need answers, just someone to cover me while I find out what’s going on.” “Yes,” Rabastan’s lips curled upwards into a grin, his white teeth showing, just as sharp as Cassandra remembered them to be. He always had the most beautiful teeth, definitely a Lestrange trait. Speaking of. “Oh, Merlin, your brother’s finally climbing up the ladder, although, I must admit, I’ll vote for Orion. Orion’s much more experienced,” Cassandra shrugged, “but still, best of luck in his candidacy, he’ll need every supporter he can get, even as a Lestrange.”

Confused by her words, Rabastan kept on staring at her, his grin now slowly fading again as he could feel his muscles relax and the compulsion wear off. The Imperius curse had lost its effect, the wand hadn’t adjusted to her, not after merely two weeks with her -- the wand wasn’t cooperating. He’d believed every word she’d said until now, would distract Walden from her, but now the part in which she’d announced her disappearance. His puzzled expression upon seeing her after the compulsion now hid behind an opened mouth, which he quickly moved as he spoke, covering up his freedom with playing pretend. What game are you playing, Cassandra? His question didn’t found its way out of him, instead he formed a different question. “What makes you think we’ll lose against an old man? Against a Black?” he looked offended. “Because he’s experienced war, while Rodolphus, being Rodolphus, cares more about you than anyone else, so it seems. And you can’t keep your god-complex in check. They know who you are and they’ll come for you. You’re a liability, a chain that keeps Rodolphus tied to problems he can never escape from. This is why he won’t win. You’ve been with him your entire life, that you completely misinterpret his love for you.” moving through the living room, Cassandra kept on searching for something. Her lack of control served as a way to get more information out of Cass, which is why Rabastan laid low, didn’t try to kill her just yet. Their positions had switched by now and he figured spending more time with her could potentially reveal more than forcefully choking it out of her.

“What exactly are you doing here in the first place, Cassandra?” his gaze followed her through the room, until she finally stopped at a picture. With her back to Rabastan, Cassandra glared at the picture, recognized her friends, smiling at the camera, being students and free, so unlike now. “Waiting for Rodolphus -- I actually planned to talk to him in private, but I guess France will have to suffice. I never wanted you to know I’m alive, so you’ll have to believe otherwise, do you understand me?”

“I understand,” he answered immediately, even after Cassandra had tried to curse him again -- his free will remained intact. “Once Augustus is free,” Cassandra stated, “my debt to him will be over. I promised myself I’d always protect him, but now, I--,” Amos’ words about Augustus might’ve been true after all, so the thought of saving her fiancé really didn’t excite her that much -- not anymore. “Now what?” he sounded annoyed by now, blowing his cover immediately. Cassandra’s jaw clenched as he walked freely towards her, his wand pushing against the bottom side of her chin. “I don’t care if you leave us or not. Whatever game you playing -- you play them by my rules. Keep Orion in check -- for my brother -- and consider yourself lucky I didn’t kill you today, mudblood lover -- the day will come, I promise you that. Am I understood?” he now pressed his wand more forcefully against her skin, until a red beam of light flashed against her skin, just another Imperius curse. “Yes,” she sounded numb, emotionless. “I don’t care about your personal agenda, your desires or your bloody ideals -- All I care about is my brother, so if you do not side with us and destroy Orion, I will destroy you. If you keep distracting my brother, I will come for you. I’ll know where all your weak spots are and I’ll use them to my advantage. I know what you’re planning, Cass, and it’s not going to work.” oh, how wrong he was, but Cassandra couldn’t speak nor fight back. “I’m not just his little brother,” rage filled his heart, “I’m a Lestrange, one of the Dark Lord’s most trusted soldiers--” he clenched his jaw to stop himself from speaking. After he’d relaxed for a bit, Rabastan removed himself from her and walked towards the couch, sitting down comfortably, a grin on his face. “If you attempt to manipulate me or my brother one more time, I’ll torture you until you’ll beg for death -- and only then I’ll happily kill you. Don’t play with fire or you’ll get burned, Cass -- your father might’ve been neglectful, but he still taught you one or two things, didn’t he? So, whatever you’ve planned for my brother -- I’d advise you to keep your distance or I’ll come for you and completely turn you into my subject. Do what you want, but if you’re smart I’d advise you to do as I say.” he raised his voice in the last half of his sentence.

“You’re insecure. You don’t want them to be safe, do you? You want them all to die -- Orion, Augustus, Cassius? You’re so fixated on your brother, that you keep ignoring the obvious threat.” Rabastan shook his head. “I just want them out of the picture. The Lestrange’s will take over from here -- and Orion needs to be distracted, as you call it, long enough to lose focus.” Rabastan grinned, “that’s what you’re good for, Cass. Now, go live your pathetic life, before I’ll change my mind.”

#( t: Paradise lost )#( c: Cassandra )#idk what this is #this is basically my characters being #weird #like legit weird #control freaks #gosh #mind control tw #torture tw #assault tw

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milliebeeweasel · 8 years ago

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I read Cassie Clare’s Draco Dormiens, so you don’t have to

So Cassie Claire.

She’s a world-famous author, an Internet-famous plagiariser, and I am a little nobody with a masochistic streak a mile wide and too much curiosity for my own good. So I decided to read Draco Dormiens: the early-2000s fanfic that propelled Cassie into her writing career, and turned a shitload of people against her because plagiarism.

Cassie was 27 when she wrote this. It made her a BNF. It was huge. So it has to be good, right?

Um.

Well.

Let me take you on a sporkful journey. A journey into OOC weirdness, Hermione yo-yo-knickers, gentle canon divergence and blatant canon destruction. We’ll come out haggard and exhausted and wondering what the hell we just saw, but then we can all sit together and laugh soullessly about it over beers.

Also, since Cassie mercilessly rips off funnier people than her, I’m going to do the same. It’s a theme.

Draco Dormiens, it goeth thusly.

The basic premise is a Harry-Draco bodyswap fic. Since this was written before the release of Order of the Phoenix, it starts with a fifth year potions lesson. Snape is teaching the class about polyjuice potions, and forces everyone to temporarily swap bodies so they can see its affects. He pairs Harry and Draco, which is in-character because he’s making Harry suffer, but also wildly out of character, because he’s making Draco suffer, too.

Anyway, Harry and Draco chug their polyjuice potions and bitch for a while about how awful it is to be each other. Draco particularly whinges about Harry’s bitten nails, because his own are like, professionally manicured by house elves.

Take a moment to let that sink in. Dobby the nail technician.

I digress. When the class turns back, Harry and Draco don’t. Draco checks his Rolex—and my brain does a spit-take because why the fuck is Draco wearing Muggle apparel?—and says they should be back to normal now. Harry, thinking Draco’s spiked the potion, starts throwing punches. I mean, he never threw a punch in a lifetime of Dudley’s bullying, but I guess now’s a fine time to start? The fight ends with Draco knocking Harry the fuck out, and then realising he’s still stuck in Harry’s body. Harry (still looking like Draco) is taken to the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey’s like, ‘No problem, Dracey-poo will be out cold for the night and all better in the morning!’

She um. She doesn’t use magic to heal him or anything.

This is a recurring theme in Draco Dormiens. Magical healing is mostly ignored for plot purposes, and suddenly pops up when it’s convenient.

At this point, you’d think Draco would point out he’s Draco, and the unconscious Draco is actually Harry, but he … doesn’t? Draco essentially says to himself, ‘I AM THE GREETEST, I WILL BE HARRY POTTER NOW, FOR NO RAISINS!’ and continues to follow Harry’s timetable and never inform anyone of what happened.

So we get some bumbling comedy while Draco tries to be Harry, including him being exceptionally nasty to Cho Chang, revealing that Goyle wears ladies’ underwear, and eventually snogging Hermione. You know, the Mudblood he loathes.

If your brain just slammed on the brakes, don’t worry. That’s normal.

Meanwhile, Harry wakes up in the Hospital Wing screaming he’s not Draco Malfoy. Rather than gently calming him and getting an explanation so this whole contrived plot can be repaired, Madam Pomfrey knocks him the fuck out again and calls for Lucius Malfoy to take him home.

Harry, buddy, you might want to get a CAT Scan when you wake up. I hear being unconscious is super bad for you.

So Draco finds out Harry’s been carted off by his dad and understandably flips out, because he thinks Lucius is going to realise he’s basically got Harry captive and murder him, leaving Draco stuck as Harry forever. If you’re thinking a) polyjuice potion doesn’t work like that, or b) if it did, Lucius would be smart enough to not just murder Harry and ruin Draco’s life, your mind is in the wrong place for this fanfic.

Hermione catches Draco in the library, being swooned over by Cho Chang because apparently all she really wanted was a bad boy. You know, like Cedric Diggory. That real bad boy Hufflepuff she dated. (Speaking of which, Cedric Diggory is not mentioned once in this fic. Ever. Voldemort’s return is barely referenced until halfway through.)

BRB, rolling my eyes to space.

When they’re alone, Draco finally, finally admits to Hermione that he’s not Harry Potter.

And she punches him.

A lot.

I mean, I guess it’s technically more in-character for Hermione, but still. They’re in a library. Respect for the books, yo.

When she’s eventually got all the punching out, Draco uses a truth spell on himself to prove he didn’t fuck this up on purpose. Now. This was another brain-stop moment, because I know that veritaserum was in Goblet of Fire, and the spell Draco uses is ‘veritas’. But Hermione freaks because it’s DARK MAGIC and BAD and YOU SHOULDN’T DO THAT, even though good characters use veritaserum in Goblet of Fire with no problem. On the other hand, Hermione recovers enough to ask Draco if he’s ever had sex in order to humiliate him (he hasn’t). How heroic.

Draco does point out around now that he and Harry have a kind of mental link, and it’s making him do all kinds of nice stuff like saving Hermione from bludgers and Neville from bullies. Character development? Eh.

Hermione and Draco decide to go to Malfoy Manor and rescue Harry, leaving Ron behind because they’d have to explain everything to him, and that’s just such a bother.

Don’t worry, Ron. You’re actually getting off lightly, tbh.

Harry, in the meantime, wakes up in Malfoy Manor and plays along as Draco so he won’t get out-and-out murderkilled by Lucius. Now, Lucius in the books was implied to be cold with Draco, but still fond of him. Lucius in Draco Dormiens is full on, no holds barred abusive to both Draco and Narcissa, and also a total sex fiend who repeatedly cheats on Narcissa and attempts to assault Hermione.

But we’ll get to that later.

After some hilarious banter with McNair, where Lucius reveals Dumbledore straight-up cold-blooded killed a man ("And when Zabini tried to send the boy an exploding broom, Dumbledore intercepted it and sent it right back in a different package. They had to bury Zabini in a matchbox!"), Harry discovers the Death Eaters have captured Sirius. Narcissa faints; Harry tries to deck Lucius to get to Sirius; Lucius locks Harry in Draco’s room, and saunters off to stick Sirius in the dungeon and, presumably, gloat him to death.

At this point, Hermione and Draco make it to Malfoy Manor and Draco does a few spells to get them inside. I want to make a point of that. Draco performs a few spells. It takes up maybe a page, at a push. This is important later.

(This, also, is the first time I spotted a quote definitely lifted from Blackadder, when Draco dives in the way of an arrow to save Hermione and gets it in the leg, and she comments, ‘Six inches to the left and grandchildren would’ve been out of the question.’)

They burst into the bedroom where Harry’s locked up, and Harry proceeds to get irrationally angry because Hermione and Draco were holding each other for dear life as they crashed wildly through the window. It turns out this irrational anger is contagious, as the three of them continue to pointlessly argue for the rest of the fic, mostly about which of the two boys Hermione wants to bang most. It’s a wonder Harry manages to actually tell them Sirius is in the dungeon, smh.

Lucius arrives and Draco and Hermione hide in the wardrobe. Only after Harry’s walked off to the dungeons with Lucius does Draco point out the wardrobe locks from the outside, so they’re now stuck. This, of course, is a perfect opportunity for them to get drunk on butterbeer and make out. Because why not?

Harry gets to Sirius and is miraculously left alone with him. Sirius can smell that he’s really Harry, and this makes perfect sense because he’s a dog half the time. What doesn’t make sense is Hermione’s constant musings that she can also smell the difference between Harry and Draco, who smell like a variety of painfully fanficcy nonsense, from coffee to maple syrup to lime and I cringed every time.

Anyhoo, Sirius tells Harry that it’s super weird Narcissa married Lucius because Narcissa was totes a nice girl at school and I started going cross-eyed at this point because I couldn’t believe I was watching a Sirius/Narcissa plotline emerge.

Harry nances back up to the bedroom to enlist Draco and Hermione’s help in saving Sirius, and goes apeshit when he catches them snogging. Not at Draco—no, no, no. Entirely at Hermione.

You know, if I left my female friend locked in a wardrobe with a guy I didn’t trust further than I could throw him, and then opened the wardrobe and found them all over each other, I’d kind of … assume it was the guy’s fault? Like, my first instinct would be to push him off and check the girl’s all right, that he wasn’t assaulting her.

Not Harry.

Nope.

This is all definitely Hermione’s fault.

And I’d judge Harry for this, but Hermione’s actions over the next few chapters kind of explain his response. I lost count of how many times she kissed Harry, then Draco, then Harry, then Draco, and got angry with both of them if they dared be upset at her constant cheating. Bella Swan was positively decisive compared to DD!Hermione.

After more mind-numbing bickering, they stick Draco under the invisibility cloak, what with him looking like Harry and all, and all head back to the dungeon to save Sirius. However, they’re caught by Lucius Malfoy, who somehow completely doesn’t recognise Hermione, who Harry introduces as his—Draco’s—girlfriend, a Ravenclaw and totally not a muggleborn at all. Nope.

Also he kisses her.

Because you know. Hermione hasn’t done enough kissing yet. Not by a wide margin.

Lucius sends Harry away, and the instant he’s alone with Hermione he proceeds to pounce on her like a sexually starved dog attacking someone’s leg. I’m a damn strong advocate for not censoring sexual violence in fiction, but this scene doesn’t further the plot in the least and has basically no emotional effect on Hermione after the fact. It’s pointless. Deeply uncomfortable, and pointless.

Welp, Draco chases his dad off Hermione by throwing shit at him from under the cloak, kinda like Harry throwing mud at Draco in Prisoner of Azkaban, and before Lucius runs off Hermione notices he’s clutching some ugly-ass necklace with a tooth in it.

Hmm. I’m sure that’s not plot relevant at all!

A bunch of shenanigans happen that I don’t remember all too well because I read this whole fic in one evening at midnight, but eventually another Death Eater recognises Hermione, and Lucius gets right down to torturing her so she’ll tell him where Harry is, because he sent an owl to Hogwarts to lure Harry in to save Sirius so they could capture him and—

Wow. Déjà vu. This, um. This was actually written before Order of the Phoenix.

Huh.

Anyway, eventually Draco can’t stand it anymore and bursts out from under the cloak all, ‘TIS I, HAROLD POTTERSON, PLEASE DESIST!’ and Lucius totally desists so he can capture Draco and toss Hermione in the dungeon with Sirius. I think Harry gets sent to Draco’s room again. I think?

But basically he gets out and goes to save Sirius and Hermione, but you can’t get into the dungeon unless you’ve got Malfoy blood in your veins, so he sneaks to Draco, who’s now locked in a sparkly magic cage. Harry decides to take the phrase ‘Malfoy blood in your veins’ 100% literally, and just straight up steal a bunch of Draco’s blood. So of course they painstakingly set up a magical blood transfusion and—

Hahaha, just kidding! Harry slices their palms open with a knife and they hold hands until probably he’s got some Malfoy blood in him.

At this point, you may be wondering why the polyjuice potion hasn’t automatically turned Harry’s blood into Draco’s, since it turned the rest of him into Draco. If so, stop thinking. You’re not allowed to do that.

Also, what I haven’t mentioned until now is that this fanfic comes with artwork. Wall-eyed anime Draco holding a black rose is the cover art, and it’s peppered throughout with crappy pencil sketches, mostly of Hermione swooning over either Harry or Draco. It’s honesly worth reading the fic just to cringe at the illustrations.

Anywhoo, Harry runs back to the dungeons to release Sirius and Hermione, and then they meet Narcissa Malfoy, who tells them a) Voldemort is totes here already to kill Harry (Draco), and b) that ugly necklace of Lucius’s is actually a curse on Draco, so if the necklace breaks, he dies. This is the only reason she’s stayed with Lucius all this time. Poor battered wife Narcissa.

Boo.

They also learn that Voldemort isn’t going to kill Harry—instead he’s going to do some ridiculously convoluted magic to give Harry a magic metal arm that kills Muggles and Muggleborns, and then set him out with the Imperius Curse to kill people. Why he wouldn’t just … give Harry a knife and send him out under the Imperius Curse to kill people is never explained.

Whatever. Voldemort arrives and Draco makes some cutting remarks about him being ugly, because that’s a smart move? Voldy realises pretty sharpish that Draco isn’t Harry, because Draco doesn’t scream bloody murder when Voldy pokes him in the face. Then Voldemort removes the spell from polyjuice potion.

With two words.

He uses finite incantatem.

I’m serious, that’s it. Other characters have used finite incantatem several times throughout the fic, but apparently none of them thought to check if it would reverse the polyjuice potion. This does get elaborated on later, but still, none of the characters questioned it. None of them said, ‘Oh duh, we should totally have tried that!’ I may have screamed into a pillow a little.

Anyway, Draco turns back to Draco and Harry turns back to Harry, and Harry possibly makes out with Hermione again. Everything at this point is pretty fuzzy because it was getting late and I was on the brink of wishing for death.

EDIT: Because I can’t believe I forgot to add this before: Draco’s full name in this fic is Draco Thomas Malfoy. Thomas. After Tom Riddle. He’s named after his Uncle Voldy. Yes, that in an actual tear on my cheek.

Harry decides he can’t just leave Draco behind, so Hermione messes with the metal arm gadget and he whacks it on and storms in on the Death Eaters. Voldemort starts monologuing, saying the instant Draco turned back to himself he told Voldy everything and totes betrayed Harry and Hermione. Because you know, without the magical link to Harry, Draco’s just plain evil.

Then Voldy puts Harry under the Imperius Curse and … Harry just kinda tosses it off? He throws out a line like, ‘You know the Imperius Curse doesn’t work on me!’ as if it’d been foreshadowed in any way at all, and I narrowed my eyes and sighed and moved on.

Harry uses the metal hand to fire lasers at all the Death Eaters, which doesn’t kill them since Hermione tinkered with it, but sends them all super far away. That should be helpful … for like three minutes. They’re adult wizards. They can apparate. Ugh.

Well, they don’t apparate. Harry takes off the metal arm and he, Hermione and Sirius march out of Malfoy Manor together.

This ought to be the end of the fic, right? Harry and Draco are back to normal. Voldemort was faced and defeated. Just gotta wrap up the loose ends and all done, surely?

So imagine my surprise when I glance up at the top of my PDF and realise I’ve got over half the fic to go.

O-okay?

The crew grab Draco before he can scarper, because they want his help getting out of the Manor, since it’s all cursed and shit. Now, remember when I said that getting in took a couple of spells and maybe a page?

Getting out takes ten times as long.

Yeah, suddenly Malfoy’s garden is full of hexes and booby traps and really, painfully obviously-stolen-from-Blackadder lines that Draco has to lead them all through. (And yes, at this point I’d noticed several plagiarised lines, most of them cited half-arsedly at the end of their chapter.)

The whole way, Harry and Hermione are sulking because they think Draco betrayed them, Draco’s sulking because he didn’t betray them but they think he did, and Sirius is essentially me, face-palming at the idiot teenagers the whole way.

Eventually they get to this chasm, and Draco makes a magic path for them to cross. Harry falls off, screaming ‘I LOVE YOU’ at Hermione, who is so dense she immediately convinces herself he couldn’t possibly have said that. Draco legs it back towards the manor alone, because I guess he’s still a prick.

Harry has some weird fever dream about Hermione in a yellow dress as he’s falling, and then he’s suddenly in the back of Arthur Weasley’s flying car with Ron and Fred and George, and honestly it took me half a page to realise the flying car wasn’t part of the fever dream. Turns out Ron got the owl from Lucius Malfoy and came flying to the rescue with Fred and George, and they saw Harry fall and caught him.

They fly Harry back up to Hermione, who cries a lot, and while Sirius runs off to get Draco, Ron suddenly becomes Harry’s Life Coach is all like, ‘Harry, my man, my bud, pls tell Hermione how you feel about her now, we literally cannot stand this love triangle for another page.’

So Harry goes off to do just that, and Hermione. Hermione. Hermione. Twists everything he says, cries again, says she can never be with him because she loves him too much and it scares her, says she’s safer with Draco who can’t hurt her, and runs off sobbing.

Have I mentioned Hermione is kind of the worst?

Yeah.

Cassie broke Hermione. Thanks, Cassie.

Meanwhile, Sirius finds Draco and has a heart-to-heart with him, essentially saying that Draco reminds him of him, what with the Death Eater parents and the shitty home life, and that he learned to be friends with James and that was cool, so why not be friends with Harry? Draco grumbles but comes with him, and I check the numbers at the top and still like, 100 A4 pages to go, what the fuck?

As Sirius and Draco return, Lucius Malfoy apparently remembers how to apparate and does so, right in front of them all. He tries to kill Harry but Draco’s like ‘DADDY NO!’ and jumps in the way in an elegant and moving rendition of the climax from Pocahontas.

Lucius decides fuck it, he can make more babies, and goes to crush the necklace. But Hizzle P. and da Crew dive in to stop him, and shove him in the trunk of the Ford Anglia. Draco, however, is now basically dying from a dent in the necklace, so they rush him to Hogwarts.

There’s a lot of wrapping up at this point, but basically Draco goes to the Hospital Wing to get fixed up, Lucius Malfoy gets thrown to the Aurors, Narcissa agrees to testify against him. It’s all looking like we’re heading for a happy ending.

And I look up.

Ninety. Fucking. Pages. Left.

‘Everything’s done!’ I’m screaming. ‘What more is left to discuss!?’

Well, two things. First of all, Dumbledore has to sweep in and explain how Super Special both Harry and Draco are. Apparently they’re both Magids, a stupid word Cassie made up for this fic, which basically makes them … super wizards? I guess? It’s not terribly clear. Either way, Dumbledore also says this is why Voldemort wanted to kill Harry as a baby and I cackled wildly because hindsight is 50/50 when you’ve read all seven books. He also says Draco is a Magid, and Draco accidentally made the polyjuice potion permanent, and Voldemort is a Magid, and that’s why his finite incantatem stopped the spell.

Oh, you may be thinking, that’s nice. At least that got explained.

Except.

EXCEPT.

ANY ONE OF THEM COULD HAVE AT LEAST TRIED FINITE INCANTATEM. DRACO COULD EVEN HAVE JUST ASKED SNAPE FOR HELP. BUT NO. THIS WHOLE MESS JUST HAD TO HAPPEN.

MAGIDS IS A TERRIBLE EXPLANATION.

Well fine. Draco also kind of hand-waves a half-arsed reason for wanting to be Harry—because apparently Harry is just so popular and well-liked, and poor woobie Draco isn’t. At this point I think my eyes start melting out their sockets, because Harry is regularly despised by his classmates throughout the books, but fine. Whatever. I just want this trainwreck finished.

But wait.

There’s still so, so much more.

What follows is pages and pages of Hermione humming and harring over Draco and Harry. It’s dumb. It’s agony. I wanted to shake her, shake the author, shake the whole world, as I skimmed this drivel. I wanted Harry and Draco to say fuck her, to admit they were each gayer than a rainbow parade and fly away together in the Ford Anglia like the end of Grease.

But no. Finally, fucking finally, Harry finds the Mirror of Erised, hereafter to be known as the Mirror of Plot Convenience, and Hermione sees herself standing with Harry. She decides he must be the one for her, and I’m put out of my fucking misery.

Siiiigh.

Draco Dormiens ends with a letter from Sirius to say that Narcissa’s getting divorced from mean old nasty Lucius, and she’s going to marry Sirius instead—and with hysterical screaming laughter from me.

So that’s Draco Dormiens.

I’ll give Cassie Claire this: she’s good at creating hooks to propel you through the plot. Even as I shook my head and tutted and rolled my eyes and screamed into pillows at the stupidity, I never stopped reading. Each chapter gave me another hook—okay, so what’s Harry going to do; what about that necklace; how do they free Draco?

But oh my god, it was stupid.

Every character did something that felt just plain wrong at least once. Especially Hermione. Hermione was the most painfully out of character: bitchy, selfish, hysterical, utterly awful. A few times in the fic, Cassie mentions that Hermione doesn’t cry often. But that’s not true. Hermione cries all the way through this fic. If she’s not sobbing, she’s on the verge of tears.

I’m an absolute sucker for redemption arcs, but making Draco a poor, abused woobie in order to turn him good felt cheap and unrewarding.

And, of course, the plagiarism. Jesus Christ.

Other people have covered this much better than me, but yes, I spotted several pinched or reworded lines in the fic. This wouldn’t usually bother me in a not-for-profit fanfic, but Cassie did profit from her fanfic, in more ways than one (please, please read the exposé, it’s fascinating). It also meant that, every time I saw a witty or well-written line I didn’t recognise, my instinct was to wonder where she’d stolen it from. It’s really awkward to read with that level of paranoia hanging over you.

It’s not the worst fanfic I’ve ever read. It’s not My Immortal level ridiculous or Master of the Universe level offensive. If you’ve got nothing to do of an evening, it’s amusing enough for a few hours to laugh at the missteps—I honestly can’t believe a 27-year-old wrote DD; her craft is terrible—and it’s got enough plot to keep you relatively interested between the what-the-fuckery.

Just … have some paracetamol handy for when you’re done. And a stiff drink.

#cassie clare #draco dormiens #fanfic #fanfiction #hope this isn't tagging hate #if anyone wants i can remove tags :)#harry potter

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